Rage of the Blade Song
by Jester4554
Summary: This tale follows the ancient Night Elf swordsman, Ouroboros Bladesong, as he travels the breadth of Azeroth on a quest to prove himself the greatest warrior in all the lands. However when war claims a dear friend, Ouroboros stubbornly sets out on a path of vengeance.
1. Chapter 1

Ouroboros Bladesong sat in front of the campfire before him - or, rather, he was a single figure amid the circle gathered around it - yet, only he still remained sitting, for the rest of the men had drifted off to sleep. He eyed the flickering flames with mistrust; for somewhere, deep within those golden-lit eyes of his, the flame of fear also burned.

As one of the Kaldorei, the esteemed protectors of the great Well of Eternity, his had been a place of comfort and superiority. Drawing from the power of their precious Well, the Night Elven race had been allowed to grow fat from their absolute authority over Kalimdor; as a result their egos swelled to match their society. Pampered and vain like the rest of his society, Ouroboros complacent in his life-style of overzealous guard officer chasing down crime wherever the Elven swordsman saw it. He, just any other Kaldorei guard, was trained to punish the coward.

Thus, when the Burning Legion invaded Kalimdor through the Night Elves glorified Well of Eternity, they were ill-prepared to face such a demonic host. Their hateful, burning evil left nothing in its wake, and a path of destruction lit the land aflame wherever they touched.

Brought together through strife and devastation, the Kaldorei banded together in a desperate drive to stay alive; a great Elven army formed to push back against the Legion invaders. Their continued success against the Burning Legion in the field eventually spread through all corners of Kalimdor, and the Elven army amassed into a single coalition with one goal: save Azeroth from total destruction. During those final days of that war against the vile demons of the Burning Legion, it seemed that victory would be utterly assured.

Still, as if the Elves of the night didn't have reason to disdain light already, fire now held a new meaning for the Kaldorei people; for it's often difficult to erase the horror of seeing one's ancestral home burn into ash. Ouroboros Bladesong wasn't entirely sure how he managed to survive until now himself, not when so many of those he once knew had already perished.

Staring at the tongues of flame licking at the cool night air, the Elven swordsman couldn't take his mind off the legions of demon hordes that the coalition's host had gone to battle against. There were so many moments where he could have sword death would come for him, but always fate showed that it had other plans in store for the Elf warrior. He'd always notice some flaw in how the enemy stood or charged, an ally would come to his side, or, it was simply that an archer would release an arrow at just the right time. Thus far, he told himself that luck had been on his side.

However, he knew that luck doesn't last forever, and dreaded every upcoming foray into the demon tainted lands, such as the operation he now faced.

With the main body of the host moving forward in a charge against the Burning Legion's primary force, Ouroboros was lucky enough to have been grouped with a squad meant to stay behind the Elven Offensive. As of late, the swordsman and the soldiers he accompanied were assigned to camps skirting the edges of the lands retaken by the host, serving as a border of safety for refugees, and a barrier of death for the enemy. Yet, just earlier that morning, Ouroboros' lieutenant told his squad that a raven had been sent with orders for them to push into the city of Suramar, and begin reclaiming it for the Kaldorei people.

The men would have been more enthusiastic about fighting to save their homes, if not for the green haze which settled over all that the Burning Legion touched. A green haze which now shrouded Suramar and hid it behind foul mist. The men were unnerved about making a patrol through such an eerie place, and they even recalled hearing word that the human mage Rhonin had discovered a coven of warlocks working to raise the dead. He stopped the foul sorcerers from completing their work, but what if some had managed to survive?

The Elven swordsman sat shaking his head, and the lieutenant, walking by to make sure the men under his command were resting peacefully, stopped to make sure Ouroboros was holding up.

"Sword Bladesong, is there a reason you do not sleep yet?" He asked. "We'll all need to be at our sharpest tomorrow, and that would prove easier with a good nights rest."

Ouroboros smirked humorlessly. "I guess old habits die hard, Lieutenant Eldre'thor; I still prefer sleeping during the day, sometimes it's just harder than usual."

"You're worried about going into the mist tomorrow, aren't you?"

The Elven swordsman nodded his head. "I guess that could also be what's keeping me up.

Eldre'thor walked back over toward Ouroboros, and crouched down once he was at the man's side. "Anything in particular that's troubling you about it?"

"Well, I can't help but worry about going into Suramar after hearing of tales of undead in the city; still, I do trust the report from master Rhonin that the warlock presence responsible for it was dispersed." He sighed. "I guess I'm just nervous about walking into some place where I don't even know if I'll be able to see the man at my side."

Hiding the smile on his face, Bladesong's lieutenant placed a mailed hand on his subordinate's shoulder. "I can understand that concern, it'll be a different sort of battlefield should things take a turn for the worst, but you do need to bear something in mind son… We Elves don't sound a thing like any of those demons, so if you take a swing at one of us you may want to get your ears checked." Eldre'thor Featherfall assured the man under his command. "Besides, I've heard from some of the other companies that have been through there that the fog isn't so bad. We'll be fine should we stick together Ouroboros."

The lieutenant then stood up to walk back over his tent, stopping only for one more moment. "Now, I'd get to rest a lot more easily knowing that all my men were sleeping fitfully, so I hope you don't take too much longer."

Ouroboros listened to the armored footsteps of his lieutenant fade over the crackle of the flames. He shook his head realizing that Eldre'thor was right - they had their orders, and nothing he did or thought of was going to change that - so he lied down for sleep, closed his eyes, and passed the time until he and his squad mates would set out.


	2. Chapter 2

Lost to the soft sound of crackling flames on a still night, Ouroboros couldn't recall falling asleep, but at least it had been peaceful; a stark contrast to how he awoke the next morning. Though he could not recall specifics, the Night Elf warrior had been in the midst of a pleasant dream - at least he believed it to be pleasant since he had been feeling most joyous whilst resting - and he wasn't too keen on waking up, especially to the glaring light of the sun. However, he found it nigh impossible to ignore being shaken by the shoulder, which naturally caused his armor to jostle about, and his golden eyes reluctantly popped open to see the Lieutenant kneeling over him, narrowing in on the other man's slightly unkempt goatee.

"You get a good rest Ouroboros? I hope you did, because we're set to move out in half-a-hour, so get up and gather your equipment." As the Elven soldier groaned and started moving to make his own preparations for the march, Eldre'Thor stood and spoke aloud for the rest of the company to hear him.

"That goes to the rest of you as well. I don't care if the front lines have been pushed several miles away from this position; it's quite possible that there are demons who have holed up inside the ruins, and with that hellish fog covering everything I don't want us to take any chances. Make sure you have everything you'll need for a fight…and make sure that you're all at your sharpest!"

After issuing his commands, Lieutenant Featherfall walked over to a group of trees that the squad of soldiers had left their mounts tied to for the evening. He went straight for the great saber-toothed feline which served as his personal mount - a magnificent animal with a coat of fur that was nearly a solid black, but for a single white strip over its left eye -which, for Ouroboros, always reminded him of a scar earned in battle. Such a mark of past bloodshed wouldn't have been uncommon either. Ouroboros Bladesong had served under Eldre'Thor long enough to see the great feline come to his master's aid, often fighting with such ferocity that even the demonic invaders were taken aback by its fury. After untying Swiftpaw - the name that Eldre'Thor picked for his animal friend - he swiftly jumped into the saddle with a single movement, which no doubt had taken years of practice.

Ouroboros sighed as he watched the Lieutenant from afar, and found himself unable to admire his superior. Whereas he had been tracking down criminals and locking them away from petty crimes of thievery and "disturbing the peace" - which were all but laughable when compared to their present predicament - Eldre'Thor had been one of the select members of Kaldorei society who subjected themselves with duties away from their pampered homes. While nothing could have prepared the peoples of Azeroth for the coming of the Burning Legion, the Lieutenant was at least fortunate enough to have served doing the next best thing.

Prior to the madness of a war fought against demons, Eldre'Thor had served the Night Elf people by dutifully patrolling the borders of their vast Elven empire. While things were relatively peaceful, for the Kaldorei were fortunate enough to have the Well of Eternity as their pride and joy, the occasional skirmish wasn't unheard of. Whereas most other Elves had only dealt with infighting and politics, the Lieutenant was able to draw on the experience of past battles against foes such as the Tauren bull-men, rock-like Earthen, and, worst of all, vicious and cunning Trolls. These creatures were the least favorite of the Night Elves to encounter, for the Trolls had a long-standing grudge against the Kaldorei for bringing down their own empire, and their attacks were often fueled by a cruel hatred.

Though such a life would have certainly been radically different - and far more challenging - from the easy-going lifestyle of a city guard, Ouroboros Bladesong found himself wishing that he had made the decision to push himself to those limits as well.

Consisting of only six men - including Ouroboros and Eldre'Thor - the squad had little provisions other than what was needed. Any rations that the company had in their possession were kept in small pouches, which were kept strung to the saddles of the men's sabers for safekeeping, as well as to give the soldiers less things to keep on their person. Thus, not a single one of them required the full half hour to ready themselves for the patrol through Suramar, but they took advantage of the time allowed them nonetheless; not that it did many of them much good, for they were far too anxious about heading into the tainted city to relax. Finally, once the thirty minutes were up and all the soldiers had mounted, they gathered around Eldre'Thor.

As the Lieutenant checked his men over to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything, the man to Ouroboros' right spoke up, clearly unnerved about the task before them.

"Lieutenant Featherfall, might I ask how far we're being sent into Suramar's ruins?" His gaze turned toward the fog enshrouded city, where the tops of those tree-homes which still stood could barely poke through the miasma-like fog.

"Don't worry yourself to death Anarian; our commanders recognize the possible threat these ruins may be hiding. Our group is going to enter through the western roads and make a lap to Moon Goddess' temple, then we'll start making our way back here." He said reassuringly.

Until now, Ouroboros had been rubbing at his chin, lost in his own thoughts, but he stirred at something Eldre'Thor said. "_Our group;_ Lieutenant, are there other squads going into Suramar as well?"

"Yes Bladesong, there's about four or five if I'm not mistaken. The rest will be scouring the areas where homes were once setup while we patrol through the market. In fact, when we reach the temple, there should be another company waiting for us so that we may share reports of our patrol. So none of you need to worry about going in there without backup, we'll have soldiers all around us."

This new bit of news seemed to settle most of their nerves, but Ouroboros still had an uneasy feeling about venturing into the green fog. However, he didn't have long to dwell on his thoughts.

"Well it seems that everyone is ready. Let's get this business taken care of, and then we can all rest easy tonight." With that, Eldre'Thor waved forward with his hand and spurred the squad onward.


	3. Chapter 3

Ouroboros could feel the cats claws sink into the soft grass with every leap and stride, the massive feline gliding over the land with grace representative of its species. Though the ride was quiet without bird or insect to sing the company a song - for the Burning Legion's invasion had scoured away life from the land - the Elven soldiers rode on in tentative peace. A sense of calm settled over their minds, and for the present moment they seemed to forget the troubles of their world, becoming one with their animal companions. But such bliss was soon abolished as the company approached the outer edges of the fog enshrouded Suramar.

"Well would you look at that?" Eldre'Thor broke the silence. "The mist is already beginning to dissipate. Take heart men, the war must be going well for us in the East."

"Tell that to those who died here." Said one man, causing the Lieutenant to look over his shoulder in an attempt to figure out who the speaker was.

It was true, the green fog enveloping Suramar had indeed moved farther back, and the edges of Elven ruins could be seen poking through the foul mist. One such building, a toppled tree home, now stood halfway out in the open and half covered by fog. The wall and part of the roof had caved in when the building fell, and several branches that once supported the home had impaled the building during its collapse. The form of a Night Elf woman lied partially buried from the ruin, her arm outstretched as though she had died attempting to pull herself from the rubble.

Such a sight did little to ease the onlooker's hearts, for the ravaged homes barely made visible, for they now appeared more fel and haunted than ever before - at least before the mist kept everything hidden from them. It seemed to the company that the ghosts of their fallen kin might rise at any moment and lash out at them for their failure to stave off the Burning Legion's advance. That the mist was finally retreating, and made it easier for them to see, only helped the Elven group to realize this.

Sensing that his men were close to despair, Eldre'Thor Featherfall attempted to stir their spirits. "Tragic their deaths may be, we can't put the blame on ourselves for their loss. This was one of the first places hit by the Legion, there was little we could do for the refugees who refused to leave behind their homes because they were ill-prepared. All we can do now is take it upon ourselves to bring justice to the fallen and put an end to the foul invaders."

"Or perhaps we'll meet ours in these ruins, as retribution for the dead." Scoffed the same Elf as before.

"Still your tongue and keep silent! If you're going to complain about doing what you can for our people then bow your head to the Burning Legion and be done with it. As for me, I'm going to continue to fight on until this war is won and our people are made safe! Those of similar heart follow me into the ruins and serve the Kaldorei well; anybody else is free to run and be hunted down for a traitor."

The Lieutenant tugged on Swiftpaw's reins, causing the saber cat to move forward into the green shroud. Looking at one another, it was Ouroboros who lead the rest of the party in after their leader, unwilling to disappoint the man he had grown to respect so much.

Once inside the fog, the company of Elven soldiers felt as though they'd been cut off from the rest of the world. While their vision was obscured from everything around them for several feet, the men were surprised to find that the demon fog brought about no bodily harm; while cold against their skin and eyes, there was certainly no stinging pain as was anticipated. Still, that didn't mean the mist didn't affect their senses in other ways.

From the moment they stepped past the threshold of fog on Suramar's outskirts, the world immediately became deadened to the company, as if their feelings had suddenly dulled. The company could hardly tell whether or not their sabers were even moving, and had to constantly check their surroundings to make sure they still moved forward. Worse, sound seemed to be muffled as though pillows were being pressed to their ears, and the Elves - who normally possessed such superb hearing - didn't take well to their sudden state of near deafness.

The loss of their senses mad the soldiers more paranoid than was necessary. They frequently turned about in their saddles to check on their surroundings, wary of the possibility they may find demons hiding behind every wall and upturned stone.

Trying to settle his own frayed nerves, Ouroboros looked to his Lieutenant, hoping to find solace in the other man's demeanor, for he always seemed to be perfectly composed no matter the situation. Unfortunately, even Eldre'Thor appeared to be on edge, and a mailed fist clenched tightly at Swiftpaw's reins while the other rested on the pommel of his sword. To see the Lieutenant looking so worried concerned the Elven soldier, but he didn't lose himself, and remained confident that Lieutenant Featherfall would see their squad through the dark hours ahead.

In line with Archmage Rhonin's report, there was an uncommon lack of bodies in the streets due to the efforts of the warlocks, for which the soldiers were actually glad for once. Seeing a single corpse crushed beneath the rubble of a fallen home had put a dour gloom over the group, but to ride through a mass grave of their own kin would have nearly been too much for the company. Still, this failed to lift spirits while they rode through the green haze, and not a single man dared speak.

Time eventually became a meaningless concept as hours seemed to pass by with little change in their surroundings, for everywhere they looked kept blanked the city in absolution. Just as the oppressiveness of the silence started to become unbearable, the men realized that they were nearing the point where they would soon be meeting with one of the other groups. As always, it was Eldre'Thor who took point.

"We'll be coming upon the market and temple square soon. Since the other patrol routes were shorter than ours, the other group should already be waiting for us. Once we trade reports we'll be free to return to camp."

This was followed by several sighs of relief, and hope started to return to the company now that an end to this dull nightmare was finally in sight. Judging by their current position, the company only had another fifteen minutes before they'd reach their destination and could return to the free world.

However, as they reached the end of the market street and drew closer to the temple square, the Elven soldiers saw no sign of another group waiting for them.


	4. Chapter 4

Ouroboros Bladesong swallowed the lump forming in his throat as his growing sense of unease seemed to weigh down on him; a greatly undesired burden in the tainted city. The ride through Suramar's hellish remains had been enough to shake the Elf's heart, and now he resisted the voice in his own head which screamed at him to turn and flee from the heart of the city. Even as he sat atop his nightsaber alongside the other men of his company, a great wave of foreboding evil washed over him, and Ouroboros was sure beyond a doubt that the other soldiers felt the same way that he did.

Even Lieutenant Featherfall appeared to be particularly dismayed as he looked on at the empty square. From where the group of six currently stood stopped at, the first few steps leading to the temple doors were barely within sight. Toppled stands and ravaged stalls stood lining the sides, leading to the familiar circular _square_ in front of Elune's Temple. Such senseless destruction was far from befitting for a district which led to one of the revered moon goddesses' temple, but the soldiers were too perplexed to warrant any anger.

Like taking that first step in a cold, black lake, the company stood petrified; fearful of moving deeper into the shroud of gloom. At length, the soldier who spoke of their deaths on the outside voiced his trepidation, not even bothering to quell the shaking in his voice.

"We should turn back…"

This time Eldre'Thor did not turn back to regard the man, but, like the others, he stared ahead transfixed. "We may have gotten here before one of the other groups…"

"Earthen's ass, there's no way that's possible, and you know it! You said it yourself, Sir, that we had the longest patrol route through Suramar. It's not possible for us to have gotten to the Temple District before anybody else unless they've been attacked in this forsaken graveyard!"

"We can't go back until we've at least checked for them. Their group could have taken refuge in the temple while waiting for us to arrive."

"That's shit, Lieutenant!"

Ouroboros' ears perked up and he turned his head to the left. A few feet away from him was a ruined stall with an assortment of battered and overturned carts piled atop it; it had been the site of a pyre, for the wood was burnt black and the ground was scorched around the site. As the two Lieutenant and his subordinate debated over what their course of action should be, Ouroboros thought hearing the soft scrape of metal on stone from somewhere behind the charred pile.

The young soldier - at least by Elven standards - had fought against the Legion's felhunters before. Foul and vicious, felhunters shared a nature similar to wolves, and moved about on four claws, seemingly wrought in iron and sniffing at the ground, ever hunting for their next victim to make into a meal. They often liked to attack those who were proficient in magic, gorging themselves off the power wielded by such sorcerous men and women with two tendril-like extensions stemming from their shoulders; but, like any dog, the mere desire to taste the meat of their prey was enough to provoke them into attack.

It crossed his mind that perhaps one such creature now roamed through the ruins, feasting on what remains it may be able to find in the ruins of the city. It made sense from the soldier's perspective. As one of the Burning Legion demons, it would have no difficulties seeing within the dense fog clouding the city, not unlike its Elven foes. Such a foul beast would be able to scavenge around the city at its own leisure without fear of being attacked. Likewise, the demon may very well use the fog to its own advantage against any trespassers, and Ouroboros worried that one of the monstrous creatures would attack.

He constantly reminded himself that felhunters preferred prey who were proficient in magic, and since none of the men in the group had any talent in the arts, it would likely turn a blind eye toward them. Furthermore, there were six of them and - hopefully - only one of it. As feral as the felhunters might be, they, like any demon of the Burning Legion, were highly intelligent; against six trained soldiers there was no way it would be able to survive long to enjoy it's meal.

Besides, as soon the soldier turned to look for the source of the sound, the area became quiet except for the two Elves who sat atop their sabers bickering with each other. Also, a fair breeze had started up, one strong enough to jostle the holstered sword at his side. Ouroboros Bladesong told himself that he had was imagining the sound and that it was likely to have been a sign being shaken in the wind.

"Why would a trained regiment of soldiers hole up inside a ruined temple when they were told to expect our company?"

"Well Kor'Thal, answer me this then. How long would you want to spend waiting in this fog for another company of soldiers to make their way here?" The Lieutenant asked.

Kor'Thal clenched his jaw, but he didn't answer. Ouroboros had been with the group long enough to learn that the Elf was a magnificent pessimist, and his dour outlook on life was matched only by his arrogance. When asked a question, he would often return only a scalding glare that burned to behold.

"My point exactly; none of us want to be here Kor'Thal, even the other men who are waiting for us, so it makes sense for them to have gone someplace that has often been reassuring for our people. Remember, the fighting is taking place over a dozen leagues from Suramar, the Burning Legion has been pushed back without question." He paused to look at the other men under his command. "We have a duty to the Kal'Dorei people, and if we turn back without checking for the other group, then we're breaking from that duty.'

'It very well may be that some of the Legion's dogs have been left behind and are hiding out here, but if no one routes those monsters or gets word back to Command, then we'll never know. Now, we have a duty to fulfill; let's not waste our time. Move forward."

Ouroboros shook his head and prodded the nightsaber to move on, just as the others did so as well. Their mounts had only taken a few steps forward when Kor'Thal spoke up, panic filling his voice.

"This is insane! I won't follow you to our deaths! All this honor and duty shit be damned!" Kor'Thal then tugged hard on his reins and rode off at break-neck speed, the growl of his nightsaber echoing loudly through the district. Eldre'Thor reined Swiftpaw to turn, but by time he was facing the other direction, Kor'Thal had become lost in the fog.

"Damn him!" The Lieutenant turned Swiftpaw back toward the temple while looking at his remaining men. "Does anybody else plan on following suit?"

Ouroboros looked at the faces of the soldiers he was with, his eyes lingering over the deep crevices in their faces, certain that his own looked much the same. Yet, as fearful as they were, one had but look in their eyes to see the steel of their resolve. Before even he realized it, Ouroboros was rising to the call.

"We'll follow you through this war for as long as the Legion pillages through our lands, Sir! We're ready to move at your command!"

Eldre'Thor Featherfall nodded his head in gratification for Ouroboros' support.

"Truth be told, I've never been fond of leading men into battle, and I worry every time that I'll make the mistake that costs one of you your lives. Thank you for your faith in me…" As if something in the wind bade him do so, the Lieutenant drew forth his sword, a straight, silver blade with a purple crystal set in the pommel. The men following him did likewise, and, for once, rather than fear, Ouroboros felt pride and admiration in brandishing his family sword. Like the Lieutenant's, his blade perfectly forged and well maintained, the straight blade extending out to a terrible tip upon which many foes had been impaled, and, the Elf hoped, many more would be.

"Now let's find out what's going on."


	5. Chapter 5

The group of Elves passed through the open courtyard, holding their breath and straining their ears for the slightest whisper. Yet, even the previous breeze was no longer present, and a deafening wave of silence fell upon the squad of soldiers. The clink of their armored plates shifting around as their sabers moved under them seem like thunder in the quiet gloom, and they could have sworn that the sound echoed back all around them. They felt uneasy walking through the temple courtyard, as if there was something out in the thick, green fog watching their every move. Yet no screaming horde of demons came charging at them from the mists; they were utterly alone, cut off from the rest of Kalimdor.

The squad dismounted upon reaching the Temple of Elune's lower steps and left their mounts to remain waiting outside. They didn't stop to bother tying their the highly trained felines to anything that could serve as a post for fear that they might require a swift flight from the temple district - besides, the sabers themselves didn't seem too anxious to wander too far in the heavy fog. Even if the group did wish to have the sabers follow them into their revered Moon Goddesses' temple, there was no way all of them could have packed into the narrow entrance all at once. Still, the men were remiss about leaving behind such valuable animal companions, and they parted from the sabers with a heavy heart knowing that they would be in great danger should there be enemies hiding within the temple.

As Ouroboros followed his Lieutenant up the cracked marble steps he looked up at the building. The temple, which had once served as a sanctuary for the Kaldorei people, now loomed as an ominous shadow from within the deep mist.

There were a couple bodies still lying untouched on the steps leading to the door of the revered temple: one lied face down with a terrible wound stretching the length of the figures back – it was blatantly deep enough to have severed the victim's spine. The other body was face-up, and looked upon the approaching group with wide-eyed horror; there were a couple of stab wounds on the front, but the pool of dried blood around the head suggested that the victim may have died after cracking their skull on the stone steps. No doubt they would find more of the deceased inside – those who thought they may be able to find safety and protection from the demons through prayer to the Mood Goddess.

"How could Elune have allowed this to happen? Right on her doorstep no less!" He asked quietly as they came upon the gaudy doorway.

A few of the other men looked at him as though he had spoken in heresy, but Eldre'Thor gave him a look of understanding.

"It is not the Moon Goddesses' place to intervene in the physical world, no matter how great our strife may become."

"These people prayed for her in their desperation, right up until the moment they died. How could she have been so content as to watch those who loved her so die?" This time no one had an answer for Ouroboros, and they looked about sullenly. "Their chances would have been better off if they'd just abandoned the city…"

"Quiet now Bladesong and keep your wits about you."

Eldre'Thor Featherfall pushed against the white door with silver streams and it slowly budged beneath him, within moment it had swung open on silent hinges. The Lieutenant motioned with his hand for the soldiers to follow after him, and proceeded on ahead with his sword at the ready.

Ouroboros silently cursed the layout of the temple entrance as the squad made their way inside. It was bad enough that the initial walkway was narrow, barely allowing for three people to walk side-by-side, but then the hall split into two with a wall blocking newcomers from seeing into the main prayer room. The trepidation was beginning to eat at the soldier, and he desperately fought to keep from becoming nauseated in front of his companions. Naturally, Eldre'Thor was the first to see what lay within the prayer room, and even he let out a gasp before turning to look away.

The rest of the soldiers trickled in and followed suit. Ouroboros thought he managed to overcome the sickness he was feeling, but, after entering the prayer room, he couldn't remember if it was him or another who started throwing up. It certainly could have been him; after all, it seemed as though his world was turned upside down without warning and sent spinning.

The prayer room, a great circular space with an open roof so as to allow the gentle light of the moon to stream in during prayer – though now all that entered was a thin screen of fog, which cast an eerie, surreal feel to the whole scene. When the group of soldiers regained control of themselves they looked more closely at the carnage. The entire room was filled with the bodies of those who had been butchered by the demons, even as they prayed for help to come from their goddess.

Drawing closer to the mass of tangled Elven corpses, the soldiers looked through their fallen kin more closely. It was immediately apparent that there wasn't a single body there that had been left in one piece, and the squad realized that these people had been mercilessly hacked apart by their foul killers. Those heads which hadn't been removed from the shoulders were caved in, entire arms and legs had been severed from body and in some cases they even appeared to have been torn off. So much blood had poured out from the sickening pile of dead that the floor was all but lost, and no matter where the soldiers stepped they couldn't avoid stepping in the sticky substance. A metallic stench filled the air so thick that it was as if they were forcing themselves to walk through some invisible barrier.

At length, after the squad had walked around the perimeter of the mess of bodies, Eldre'Thor pointed out what all had noticed. "None of these Kaldorei are wearing armor from the resistance…" All of the bodies were dressed like civilians, along with the occasional priestess adorned in robes or their traditional – and revealing – moon armor. "We have to move in deeper and check the rest of the temple. Ouroboros, you're closest to the gardens so head in and check it out."

"Yes Lieutenant Featherfall."

The gardens were usually set behind the prayer room. Generally available for public use, the garden room was a place of tranquility and meditation, and the only sound was often the running of water which splashed into a small pond. Like the prayer room, it also had an open roof, for the Night Elf priestesses took great assurance from the moonlight, and it was a huge aspect of their lives within the temple. If the soldiers could be found anywhere, it would probably be in there, or the library.

Ouroboros turned around and his eyes immediately fell upon the closed door that led into the gardens, marked by the etching of a leaf and vines. His sword was still drawn, and he was only slightly aware that his grip on it was tight that his fingers had gone numb. One of his companions moved closer to support him in the event there was anything hiding within for ambush; he couldn't tell who it was, but he was thankful nonetheless. Ouroboros Bladesong pushed on the door, which easily swung inward, and let out a yelp before putting a hand to his mouth.

"Lieutenant, come here, I think I've found them!"

Eldre'Thor headed over as swiftly as he could manage without stumbling over the tangled mess of corpses – easier said than done, and he periodically stepped upon a severed limb which threatened to throw his balance off. Ouroboros had stepped aside, allowing the Lieutenant to get a better view, though he continued to point inside. Within moments, the rest of the squad gathered around and tried to look inside over Eldre'Thor's shoulder.

Ouroboros Bladesong had spoken the truth, inside was the group that had been designated to meet with them, though they were no longer in a position to carry out their assigned orders. The entire lot of them had been strung up and hung from the open roof in a circle around the small pool of water. Each of the soldiers had been disemboweled so that their guts could hang free. Lying face-down in the bloody pond was their leading officer, and, from out of a terrible gash on the back of his head, fresh blood still oozed into the befouled waters.

"This happened recently, those damned monsters could still be around!" Eldre'Thor turned around. "Be ready to defend yourselves, we're getting out of here!"

Yet the demons must have been watching and waiting to see if the bodies to be discovered. Not a moment after the Lieutenant ordered his men to head out one of the sabers outside roared loudly, and it was answered by a guttural and challenging shout. All of the men there had heard that same scream before in past battles. It was a Fel Guard, vicious shock troopers within the demon armies, and, as they listened, more joined in the call.

The Burning Legion had been lying in ambush outside the temple.


	6. Chapter 6

At the sound of a second roar from one of the night sabers, Eldre'Thor perked up.

"We have to get out there, now! Before they kill the sabers and leave us stranded!"

The lieutenant quickly moved for the entrance, gracefully maneuvering among the bodies with grace as he was followed by the rest of the company. Ouroboros trailed behind last. His mind was ablaze with fear and it was only the adrenaline of the moment which managed to fuel him.

He cursed himself for not saying anything earlier after hearing the metallic scrape. Ouroboros was now certain that whatever made it had been no effect from the wind, but one of the foul demons lying in wait for them. Now they were cornered in a pile of their own rotting kin with the Burning Legion surrounding them on all sides. The ringing sound of the Fel Guards screaming for Elven blood was all he heard. The soldier tried to pick out how many foes they might be against, for surely their numbers could not be that great, but the constant echo of their howls mixing as one made count an impossible task. He desperately hoped that, maybe if he and the rest of his companions just stayed put, perhaps the demons would simply pass them by, but he knew this to merely be wishful thinking.

The five soldiers gathered at the hallways end, where the snarling of sabers and grunting of demon soldiers in battle came at them from the entrance. Eldre'Thor Featherfall put himself first, held his sword at chest level, and charged down the hall. Two more followed him and two more after them before Ouroboros was free to go to their aid as well. From where he stood the green fog almost seemed to be glowing as it filled the temple doorway; as he rushed forward, the soldier imagined that he just ran through a funeral shroud for death was all around him.

Battle between the Night Elves and the demon foot soldiers had already met, and the angry clash of steel rang in his ears. He couldn't tell how many of the Fel Guard were there, but it was obvious their squad was outnumbered - it looked to be three for every Elf. Already one of the sabers lied dead already; the head, having been nearly hacked off entirely, lolled to the side as its body bled out and a hind leg kicked in wretched death throes. However, noting the two crumpled forms lying gutted near the carcass, Ouroboros wagered that the demons had lost two of their own against the ferocious felines. The Elves put up a valiant defense rushing to the aid of their animal companions, and managed to draw the demons' attention onto themselves, but now they were forced to endure the full brunt of their attack atop the temple steps.

Fortunately, in their zeal to route the Kaldorei defense which dared show itself, the Fel Guard company turned their backs on the night sabers in a frantic rush to butcher the true enemy. Yet the great sabers, loyal to their Elven handlers, did not flee once ignored but instead hounded the Legion troops from behind and mowed straight into the back of their lines. As the demonic forces converged on the Elves they suddenly found themselves caught between two foes, and were forced to split their attention once more.

Ouroboros moved to lend his blade to the far right, alongside one of the men standing beside Eldre'Thor. The five of them formed a half-circle barricade along the steps and used the elevated ground to their advantage. They found it difficult to go on the offensive, but the group managed to parry a great deal of strikes aimed at ending their lives. Occasionally one of the Elves would find a break in the demons' own defense, and they would lash out to claim a life of their own. Slowly but surely, the number of Fel Guards was dwindling.

Suddenly an agonized roar shook the fighters. In the back one of the demons managed to slip their blade past the sabers quick feet and stuck one in its chest. Rather than mercifully slay the fearsome beast, the Fel Guard was so overcome with blood lust that it continued to run the feline through until he managed to overturn the animal. The other night sabers quickly turned toward the vicious demon and shredded him beneath their combined claws, but they could do nothing to save their dying companion and the saber moaned mournfully.

"Shadowfoot!"

The man beside Ouroboros shouted and a horrified look of anguish crossed his features. However, one of the demons up front took advantage of it's foe's shock and lunged forward.

"Look out!"

Ouroboros Bladesong attempted to bring his sword up for the man beside him, but he wasn't swift enough. The Fel Guard's own blade stabbed him through the gut, piercing right through his forest green armor while Ouroboros' own swing came in slow and rebounded off the demon blade.

He desperately wanted to avenge his fallen ally, but in his rush to protect a fellow soldier, Ouroboros had placed his own life in danger. He pulled his blade back just in time to parry a set of swings from the Fel Guard before him. The foul creature savagely rained down a series of blows that threatened to force Ouroboros back up the steps. Yet, if he allowed that to happen then the demons would be able to encircle the Lieutenant, as well as the other two soldiers, and he refused to budge an inch. He finally found the reprieve he needed when the demon made a furious lunge which Ouroboros was able to deflect off to the side; using the Fel Guard's own momentum against him, the Kaldorei soldier ran his family blade through the demon's warped skull.

Just as he was moving to stand beside his lieutenant, the demon that killed his ally slashed him across the chest. As it's own companion fell, the Fel Guard focused on Ouroboros while he was busy pulling his sword from the demon's head. The attack had been an upward swing, and so strike not only cut through his armor and chest, but also lifted Ouroboros from his feet and knocked him to the ground. Faring better than the body he saw earlier, the soldier's head came down hard on the flat side of the step rather than its edge, but the sudden impact and horrendous wound on his chest took the fight out of him and Ouroboros grew dizzy.

The demon let out barking laughter as it stepped closer and prepared to run him through. However, Eldre'Thor intercepted the Fel Guard's path and blocked it from the fallen Elf. Lieutenant Featherfall struck out viciously at the surprised demon and cut its own chest in multiple locations; he finished by beheading the foul creature and kicking the corpse backward.

Ouroboros' breathing became labored and he strained to prop himself up, only to fall back down. Even as his eyes went dim, they rested on the sight of his Lieutenant valiantly standing over him in defense. As the Kaldorei's world went black the last thing he heard was Eldre'Thor barking commands to those that remained, though they were nothing more than a mumble.


	7. Chapter 7

Like being lost in the darkness of a deep cavern and finally finding light at the end of a long tunnel, Ouroboros returned to the waking world. Even before his eyes were open he could tell that he was no longer in the ruins of Suramar. For one, he no longer felt a cold chill running down his back; he couldn't feel his armor and guessed that someone had removed it; finally he could hear birds chirping all around him. The sound was peaceful, as if the creatures of Azeroth didn't realize that the Burning Legion had invaded their world and threatened to consume it in flame.

Curious to see where he was, Ouroboros Bladesong tried to open his eyes. However, he'd been asleep for so long that the bright light was momentarily overpowering, and he had to immediately close his eyes once again. Ouroboros tentatively attempted to open his eyes again, doing so very slowly so that the sunlight wouldn't burn his sensitive eyes for a second time.

Lying on a makeshift cot, the Elf found himself beneath a tall tree. He must have been taken far from where the fighting was, because the leaves growing from the branches were green as emeralds, rather than being dull and faded. If it had been earlier there would have been shade over his face, but the sun had moved so that its light totally enveloped him.

Ouroboros tried to prop himself up on his elbow, but a piercing pain rang through his chest and forced him back down.

"Ugh! What hap-" The Elven soldier quieted as he remembered the events that led to the agony in his chest. With startling clarity he imagined the Fel Guard's leering face glaring at him as it slashed him with its wicked blade. He also remembered how defenseless he'd been against the demon as it nearly cut him down and ended his life. A trembling rage came unbidden to him as he thought over how useless he'd been during the fighting in Suramar. He clenched his fists and grabbed a tuft of grass in each.

"Oh, you're awake? That's wonderful to see!"

Ouroboros released his grip and turned his head to regard the speaker. It was one of the priestesses of Elune dressed in the white robes that were custom of their duties. Upon realizing that her charge had awakened, the priestess stepped closer to him so that he could see her better.

"How are you feeling?"

"Well I'm not dead, and that's all that matters." Ouroboros once again tried to rise, grimacing through the pain as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Covering his chest was a bandage with blood already beginning to show through.

"Don't push yourself so hard!" The priestess quickly knelt down to lend her aid to Ouroboros, and helped him move back so that he may lean against the tree. "As soon as your companions brought you to us we set to work trying to heal that wound on your chest. The demon's weapons almost brought about a serious infection, but we were able to stave it off and prevent your injury from becoming any worse. Still, it would be best that you not move around too much until your wound has had time to close."

All around him were soldiers and refugees who appeared to be in similar straits. Men and women were lying on the cots on the ground, most of them asleep, but some sitting up like him. Also like him, most of them sported a bandage on some part of their body.

"And where am I exactly?"

"We're at the base of Mount Hyjal. We were forced to move from our old encampment some time ago. Oh, I'm so sorry!" Even as Ouroboros gave her an inquisitive look the priestess reached behind her into a pack and pulled out a skin of water. "You must be very thirsty, drink this."

As soon as she mentioned it, the Night Elf realized that he was thirsty, and hungry too. The priestess must have realized that as well; while he eagerly drank from the skin she also produced a pouch of nuts and dried fruit. He ate a small bit from the pouch, mostly picking out the fruit, but primarily he stuck to drinking the water. When Ouroboros finally had his fill he looked at the Elven woman before him curiosly.

"Do you know how long I've been out for?"

"Exactly one week." The priestess told him.

"A week?" His eyes widened and he leaned forward before quickly pushing himself back with a gasp as a new wave of pain stabbed through his chest.

"Please Sir, try to take it easy!"

"I've been asleep for a week? That can't be!"

"I hate to be the one to tell you so, but it is the truth."

Ouroboros leaned his head back and looked into the sky. He could scarcely believe that a week had passed since he was injured in Suramar. The Elf brought his hand up and gentle placed it on his chest close to where he knew the wound was. He would have a scar once it was healed, a terrible one at that. Once before he may have shuddered at the thought of coming face-to-face with a demon, but now it was all that was on his mind. He almost wished that the foul creature had killed him rather than letting him live with the shame that he'd been bested. However, since he was still alive, Ouroboros wished for nothing else but to return the favor to the hellspawn of the Burning Legion.

"My Lady, do you happen to know what has become of my companions? Where are they?"

"I don't know what's become of them, but if I had to take a guess they might be up on Hyjal's summit."

"What would they be doing there?"

"The dragons were preparing for a ritual of sorts and they invited the Night Elven people to attend. A lot has happened since you were unconscious Sir. The war against the demons was won a few days ago. Those monsters will never trouble Kalimdor again."

"We…we've _won_…it's over?"

"Yes Sir, indeed we have. Now, if you'll please excuse me, I've talked long enough. There are other injured that need attending and there are only a few of us priestesses around to attend them at the moment. Forgive me."

The temple priestess rose and walked away, leaving Ouroboros with a filled satchel of water and the pouch of nuts, but he paid them no heed. Her words rang like thunder in his ears. The war was over. It couldn't be, how could he possibly exact his vengeance against a foe that was no longer around? Worse, the priestess said that they would never return to Kalimdor again. No, Ouroboros Bladesong refused to believe that, the Burning Legion had to return. He had to satisfy his anger against them no matter the cost.

With the weight of the coalition's victory pressing down on him, Ouroboros Bladesong swore that he would some day exact a bloody toll against the Burning Legion, but he wouldn't stop there. As the Night Elf lied beneath the evergreen tree he vowed to become the greatest swordsman that not just his people, but the rest of Azeroth would ever know.


	8. Chapter 8

**10,000 years later**

Moonbrook…probably one of the trashiest, dirtiest places Ouroboros Bladesong ever had the displeasure of being made to visit. The buildings were in shambles and disrepair from years of weathering wind swells and near constant exposure to sunlight, with little to no incentive on anybody's part to patch them up. Those living in the shady town fared little better. Most of the people who lived there sat or walked around in nothing but dirty rags, rambling about a kingdom turned against them, and a bottle in their hand; those who were a cut of grain above the rest were cutthroats and thieves, brigands who fed on each other as much as those who passed by. Yet, no matter their method of dealing with the situation, the citizens of Moonbrook shared one thing in common with one another - all were poor.

And the Night Elf swordsman still found that, in some ways, it was more favorable there than Stormwind City. At least here he knew who to hide his coin-purse from and keep his eyes on, after all, it's not like they did much to try and hide themselves.

Scanning the crowd currently walking about, many of those walking the street matched the scruffy look he was told to expect, but Ouroboros found himself unable to spot people he was looking for. He doubted that the gang members he was hired to track down would be wearing anything too out-of-place in the decrepit town, but the Elven swordsman was told to keep a lookout for any wearing red cloths.

The land of Westfall had always had problems, many that dated all the way back to when Stormwind City was rebuilt after the Alliance's first war against the Horde; most of these problems were economical. A land with a community that mostly consisted of farmers and small traders, it was never an ideal trading hub and little money found itself into the region. However, as of late, the people living in the land had grown disgruntled with their poor straits, and, from this frustration, a brotherhood of criminals was born. In order to recognize one another these vagabonds had taken to wearing bolts of red cloth around their neck or fixed somewhere on their clothing. Their unity made them brazen, but, in the end, this brotherhood was nothing more than an organized group of thugs.

Being a simple mercenary, dealing with the group as a whole wasn't his job, but a task for the military. Instead, Ouroboros' search was more specific and the job more personal; all he had to do was find three men in the brotherhood. When he accepted the job he thought it would have been easy, but the Elf was finding the task a bit more difficult than first imagined. Still, there was no way in hell Ouroboros had any intentions of heading back, not when the pay was so good and he had potential to make even more. Besides that, the client was so livid when Ouroboros showed up that the swordsman was worried he'd be next on the nobleman's hit list.

_Those bastards think they can do whatever they want because they say they're a part of the Defias. Fine then, we'll play ball with 'em. You'll be able to recognize the sonsofbitches by the red bandannas they like to wear around their necks. Hell, you might even strangle a couple of 'em with their own fucking cloth! By the way, I'll pay you an extra twenty-five gold if you bring me their cocks wrapped in those bloody bandannas!_

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Ouroboros Bladesong pressed on into the throng.

Standing at the edge of Moonbrook the armored swordsman hadn't garnered much attention from the disgruntled rabble as a mere onlooker, and why not? They were used to people staring at them like they were trash. However, walking into their midst was another matter entirely. Especially when the visitor was a tall, handsome Elf covered in a fine suit of plated metal armor - simple yet elegant for easy movement. Instead of a rough beard like many of the men in town sported, his was obviously well-groomed, and even the dignified way in which he walked made it seem as though his life had been bereft of hardship. As he passed through, many of the citizens eyed him with either disdain or a vacant expression, though they seemed to glower most at his flowing mane of dark violet hair. Yet behind all their eyes he thought he saw a great hunger with envy as its master.

Ouroboros did his best to ignore the stares, even when he noticed from the corner of his eye some of the folk pulling out knives and playing at them with threatening gestures. Still, he doubted that there were any in the town who would actually attempt anything against him, after all, his family broadsword, The Blade Song, was strapped to his back for all to see and was probably the greatest deterrent he had.

He instead kept his focus on the inn as he walked through the town. Aside from the warehouse and clock tower rising from the town hall, the inn was easily the largest building in Moonbrook. If the men he was looking for were hiding somewhere in town, it was very likely that the barkeeper would have heard something about them.

—-

The inn was more empty than he'd expected it to be, yet still too crowded for the Elf to feel at ease. Most of the patrons sat huddled around small tables playing cards or some other game with each other, a few were drinking quietly at the bar, and there was a couple loitering by the stairs. Giving the tavern goers a quick glance, he could spot none of the red bandannas the client told him to be on the look for. Not that he was discouraged by that fact, Ouroboros hadn't really been expecting the gang to be hiding out at an inn during the day, even if it was in Moonbrook. Standing behind a bar toward the back of the room and near the kitchens was the man who no doubt ran the place. Since stepping foot inside, the barkeeper hadn't taken his eyes off the swordsman for a single moment, and Ouroboros thought it about time he talked to the man directly.

As he approached, the man greeted him with a sneer that suggested Ouroboros should back off, though he somehow continued to smile. However, he didn't retreat, and Ouroboros continued to move closer.

Before he could say a word, the barkeep spoke. "An Elf? Fancy that…we don't see too many of your kind 'round these parts."

"Sir-"

"We'd figure as much though. Town must be too dirty for fancy folk like yourself, isn't it? I hear your kind like ta live in the trees. Well…ain't got too many of those 'round here neither."

"I'd only like to ask-"

"Then again, you don't look like one of them pretty Elf's most others go on about. The way I hear your kind described I'd have imagined that you would look a little more kingly, maybe with some flowin' robes or a bit o' that fancy leather armor with a great big bow on your back. Cause right now…right now you look like any ol' grubby soldier to me."

"I want to know where the three men are who attacked a noble woman the other day are hiding."

The barkeeper shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Shame 'bout that, I heard about it all the way out in these parts. Happened over at Sentinel Hill, eh? What makes ya think your bandits woulda come all the way out here for hidin'?"

Ouroboros smiled, a flash of white in his cropped beard. "Because I heard this is where all the trash likes to gather."

"Is that so? Well perhaps you heard wrong then, can't imagine how so with those long ears of yours, but I guess there's a first for everythin', ain't there? Maybe you should take your question ta the mines…"

Ouroboros was getting tired of playing games with the man quite quickly. The mines, which were tunneled out beneath the Moonbrook warehouse, stretched on for several miles. Most people referred to them as the Deadmines, for that was where the Defias once made their home long ago before the band of brigands was broken up. They attempted to reform, led by their original leader's daughter, but eventually she too was put to death just like her father. Now the mines served to give the less fortunate a place to rest, and those with ill-intent a place to cower. If the swordsman went chasing down there for answers he'd likely receive only silence, or, more likely, a knife in the back.

He slammed his plated fists on the counter top, startling the barkeep and causing his snicker to vanish. "Enough with the games! Tell me about the men I'm looking for, and where I can find them, or I'll start taking heads in here as well! Do you honestly think anybody outside this miserable, rat infested town will miss any of you?"

The barkeeper swallowed and backed against the wall, close to the kitchen entrance, but said nothing. A few droplets of sweat formed atop his forehead as he cowed before the Night Elf's intense gaze. Shocked by the sudden outburst, the patrons went quiet and stared uneasily at the swordsman threatening violence; one or two stood up to leave.

"So are you going to tell me what I want to know or what?"

The tavern owner had nowhere to go, though he did look at his options. If he ran back into the kitchens the farthest he could hope to go was the cellars, and possibly lose him amid the barrels of ale stored down below, but something told the man that he wouldn't be able to lose the Elf so easily. He could attempt to make a dash past the swordsman, but…

"Hey _Elf_, word around town is that you've been lookin' for my boys and I. That true?"

As Ouroboros turned around to face the person speaking to him, the barkeeper slunk around the corner to hide in the kitchens.

The man speaking was young, probably in his twenties, as were his friends on either side of him. The one who spoke, who stood in the middle at the forefront had on a light brown leather chest piece, with matching pants, boots, and gloves cut off at the fingertips. Wrapped around his neck was the blood-red bandanna infamous for the Defias.

"Well that depends… Are you the one's responsible for the rape of a noblewoman over at Sentinel Hill?"

"Rape? Is that what they're callin' it? Can't say it rings a bell I'm 'fraid, after all, we thought she was there for charity service… Thought she was all willin' to serve the communities needs." As the men started to snicker among themselves they pulled the bandannas up over their face, and also pulled knives from their belts and boots.

At the same time, Ouroboros Bladesong unsheathed his own great sword while the remaining tavern patrons abandoned the building. "You're a disgrace to your people…"

—-

He could hear the noble long before he could see the man.

"That mercenary better have good news for me! If he's coming back to say he couldn't find the men who did this I'll have that whole stink hole burned to the ground!"

To the Night Elf's surprise, his client had become even more foul-tempered than before he hired his services. After his previously unsuccessful attempts with the job, it wasn't very difficult to imagine why, but Ouroboros still felt a sting that his skills were being doubted. Soon enough the nobleman who hired him to track down the thugs responsible for assaulting his daughter came whirling down the stairway.

"I hope- what the hell? You look like shit."

Even before the noble was all the way down the stairs, he laid eyes on Ouroboros Bladesong. Standing in the midst of his entrance hall to await his payment, the Elven swordsman's armor was splattered with dried blood. "Only covered in it sir."

The noble finished walking the rest of the way and approached the mercenary. "My my… You look to have certainly been busy. I hope that," he motioned to the blood stains on the armor, "belongs to those unruly pests who thought they could get away with hurting my family."

"Indeed it does my lord, and they were most generous in giving it to me."

"Really, I find that hard to believe."

"Well it was easy enough to take at least."

The noble laughed harshly. "Splendid! I can't tell you how much it pleases me to hear that those filthy cretins got what was coming to them! You got all three of them, right?" He reached for the larger of pouches hanging from his belt and tossed it to the Night Elf, who deftly caught it with a single hand. "That's a hundred gold pieces for you-"

"Hold on there Sir, I'd also like to cash in on the bonus."

Ouroboros raised his other hand to hold up a bundle of red cloth, with even more red stains toward the center. He motioned for the manservant to take the bloody makeshift sack from him, but the man appeared hesitant until his Lord nodded for him to retrieve it. The butler sniffed in disdain as he took the weighty sack, and brought it to his master. The nobleman had him open it slightly; Ouroboros grinned with amusement as the servant turned his head away in disgust.

"Three heads… Fair enough, I guess you've earned the other seventy-five." He unfastened the smaller pouch hanging from his waist next and tossed that too toward the Night Elf. "Try not to spend that all in one place, eh?"

"Wouldn't even dream of it."

"Jockliue, show Mr. Bladesong to the door while I go and tell my daughter the good news."

But Ouroboros had already walking back as soon as he had the entire payment in hand. Without waiting for the butler to catch up and open the door, the Night Elf walked out himself, leaving the door open for the manservant to close. Not far from the home he'd just left was the Cathedral of Light. He was in the richest district in Stormwind; no place for a mercenary with a poultry sum of a hundred and seventy-five gold pieces…give or take what he had stored away.

There was only a few places a guy like him had to go if he wanted to spend his gold after a hard days work, and that was Old Town.


	9. Chapter 9

Departing from the Cathedral District, Ouroboros stepped out into the canals. As the Night Elf walked along the Stormwind waterway, he wore a smile on his face as he basked in the warmth of the radiant sun light. It was only earlier that morning Ouroboros heard about the plight of the nobleman's molested daughter, so the swordsman was amazed that he managed to make it from the city, to Westfall, and back again. The mercenary couldn't help but smile at his fortunes as he traversed the city's paved streets; there wasn't much he could imagine being better than getting paid and still having time left in his day to have a bit of fun.

As Ouroboros crossed the small bridge that led from the Cathedral District to the Trade District, the Night Elf's ears picked up a multitude of voices. Though Stormwind's citizens usually spent most of their time in the districts, which were kept walled off from the canal except for their archway entrances, the bustling of the city's people was hard to miss. Yet, far different from the cities of his own somber people, the Night Elf took a liking to the knowledge that there were others all about.

He felt as if there was always something to do in the greatest human capital on Azeroth. Actually, that was how he had heard about the nobleman's request in the first place. It was so easy to overhear the idle chatter of Stormwind's citizens, and the mercenary managed to listen in on the conversation between two mercenaries who often did business with the noble on a regular basis. Even from them he was able to gather that the man was an overall prick, but it sounded as though the victim didn't deserve her fate. Aside from the pay, that was what motivated Ouroboros to take the job more than anything else. The Night Elf swordsman was disgusted by anyone who would take advantage of the weak and kind, and he realized a long time ago that their world needed people like him to avenge those who were wronged and unable to fight back on their own.

Knowing that he had done his part to ensure some measure of justice was meted out, Ouroboros Bladesong felt not the least bit guilty over spending what money he received from that job.

One of the smaller shops that faced toward the canals had a small gathering of people standing around the front entrance or sitting atop crates stacked on one another. The Night Elf could tell by their clothing that at least a couple of them owned the store, and, from what he could gather, the one sitting on the crates was related to them in some way.

However, one figure chose to keep their distance from the rest and leaned against the wall while looking over those who passed by. Ouroboros was curious as to what this person might be up to, but, due to the brown cloak enshrouding their figure, as well as the brown cowl over their face, there was little left to do but wonder. Furthermore, the Elf noticed that the mysterious figure turned their head just as he was passing by.

Still, he continued down the paved street without a second glance at the store, nor its mysterious patron. The Elven swordsman had no interest in knowing the identity of a random human. All that interested him was getting to the Pig and Whistle tavern and getting a good seat before they were all taken.

The city of Stormwind was large, and the districts were so separated that one would have to be riding at full speed to get anywhere quickly. Ouroboros wasn't in a hurry, but he walked briskly and managed to make good time in getting to the Old District.

Compared to the Cathedral District, where the buildings were orderly spaced out from each other and the streets were kept clean of trash and loitering, the oldest sector in the city seemed filled to capacity. Tall buildings of stone that had been weathered by time, all with brown roofs, towered over the streets and those who walked them. The cobbled stonework that made up the streets was cracked in several places and the stones certainly needed replacing. Still, the people seemed not to mind one bit, as many of them stuck to the shops and taverns. Besides, the Old District was also where the military ward and ever since tensions between the Horde and Alliance had reached an all time high, platoons of armored soldiers often walked the streets, weathering the roads even more. Then there was the riff raff who stuck to running through the alleyways with rats and ambushing pedestrians who seemed like an easy score.

Truthfully, the denizens of Old Town weren't unlike the downtrodden people Moonbrook, nor Westfall for that matter; the only difference in many cases was that, here in Stormwind, the criminals liked to think that they held themselves to higher standards. Ouroboros scoffed at the notion. If the rats badgering decent people held themselves to any higher standard it was that they liked to choose targets with bigger pockets.

Still, despite the decaying structures and derelict walkways, Ouroboros greatly enjoyed spending time in Old Town. Out of all the places he'd traveled it was here where things felt real, and he knew the people didn't lie to themselves about the sorry state of the world. Furthermore…at least while he was here he already knew who to keep his coin purse hidden away from.

Ouroboros became so caught up marveling at the nature of this sprawling human city, that the Elf barely managed to realize it when he walked past his favored tavern. He probably would have continued on walking if not for the sign springing up on his right. With a sigh the armored swordsman turned on his heels and walked back to the Pig and Whistle.

—

Even though there were still a few hours left before dusk, the tavern was already beginning to fill up for the evening. Men and women were already taking up seats along the smaller tables on both the first and second floor, and the swordsman found his thoughts drowned out amid the talking, his Elven ears particularly sensitive to the noise. Fortunately most of these people seemed to be waiting for friends to arrive, particularly those sitting at the largest table in the middle of the floor, and some of the back tables were still available for a recluse like himself.

He walked to one such table that was directly opposite of where the door was. It would have been lost in the shadow of the stairway it sat under if not for the candles burning on top of it, and it was set a bit away from everybody else other than those sitting at the bar. With the bar directly on hand Ouroboros unburdened himself, setting his things along the wall while fishing for one of the smaller pouches of gold that he'd recently just earned. After requesting a spot of ale from the barkeep, and tossing the man a few gold coins, the Night Elf sat down in a chair facing the doorway. He then pulled a pipe and some herbs from his bag, crushed the herbs into the bowl, and pulled out a small stick that he lit using the candle flames and quietly inhaled on the small piece. As he lit up, a less-than-sober Dwarf sitting nearby merrily cheered at him before turning toward the tall mug before himself.

In the short length of time that Ouroboros sat alone in the corner, he saw dozens of newcomers arrive for a night of merriment with their friends and companions. He overheard over a dozen conversations from those entering the tavern ranging from farmers selling their crops, to old war stories of from when the Horde first invaded the land. Being a bit of a recluse, the Elf neither knew nor recognized any of the patrons. Not until a familiar form entered.

He couldn't have been there for longer than a half hour when the same cloaked and hooded figure from the canals entered into the Pig and Whistle. Though there was at least a couple dozen people between Ouroboros and the mysterious figure, Ouroboros leaned back farther in his chair to be deeper in the shadows.

Whoever they were, the Elf noticed that they moved lightly on their feet. Even from across the room the trained fighter could tell that this was no street merchant or alley drunkard, for they moved with confidence and purpose. Even now the hooded figure slowly turned their head to look around the room. He was looking at a fighter. Furthermore, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was an accident. Whoever it was, they had followed him to the tavern.

Since he was sitting in the far back, and in a crowded place no less, Ouroboros Bladesong didn't feel as though he were in any immediate danger. The Elven swordsman remained sitting in his seat, smoking more than drinking, and kept his eyes trained on the cloaked figure who was no doubt searching for him.

A few hours passed by and the Pig and Whistle tavern filled up even more. By now, the building was entirely filled to capacity and beyond, with some of the patrons sitting on the steps outside with their drinks. Still the hooded figure remained just at the doorway. Currently they stood leaning against the rail separating the walk-in deck from the floor where most of the drinkers gathered. They seemed to have stopped looking around the room which meant that they had either given up and were now hoping their target would pass them by as they left, or the hooded figure found what they wanted and was simply biding their time to make a move.

Though he was confident that the brown cloaked figure hadn't spotted him, Ouroboros brooked no chances. There weren't many other Night Elves who frequented the tavern, and they'd been there long enough for whoever it was to spot him. After packing his things together, Ouroboros sipped slowly at the new ale brought before him as he waited for one of the larger groups to get up and leave. When they did that, he would simply get up, and join them. Then he'd be-

"Well if it ain't the long ear who killed our friends…"

Ouroboros looked up as three men stepped before him, blocking his view from the cloaked figure waiting for him at the doorway and cornering him. Like the gang members in Moonbrook, the men wore cheap leather brown with age and cracked from constant use. Their hair was unkempt and dirty with faces to match the filth atop their heads. In each of their eyes was a wicked gleam that was brought out even more by the candle light.

"You mean the rapers? Well yeah, if someone puts gold on their heads then you should expect someone to eventually get around to killing them. I thought that was just common sense." Ouroboros clenched his fists and tensed up after noticing that he hit a nerve among the men. "Why, is there a problem?"

The men scowled at him, though their leader at least gave him a sardonic chuckle. "Oh… I wouldn't say there's a problem for us. But we can't be lettin' anybody go walkin' over the Defias, now can we? Seems to me like we should probably make an example outta ya." The thug gave Ouroboros a wicked grin as he reached for a dagger in his belt.


	10. Chapter 10

Ouroboros sighed wearily as he watched the thug pull his dagger out and hold it underhanded. If the man came at him correctly, then all he'd have to do is lunge at Ouroboros with the dagger held at his torso, but the Night Elf doubted that a mere street urchin would know how to come at him with finesse. He also eyed the blade and noticed that the workmanship was quite basic. Even if the swordsman were to only raise a hand and block the attack with his armored palm he wouldn't have too much to worry about, other than some minor discomfort it wasn't likely that any of their weapons would be able to pierce through his ornate plate. Still, Ouroboros had always neglected to wear a helmet, believing that they hindered his vision during combat, and so it was still possible that one of the thugs might get lucky and strike him where he was unprotected. Since he was sitting down and cornered, the Night Elf was willing to play it cautious.

The leader's friends moved in closer, cornering the lone Elf even more as they reached for their own weapons, which were cleverly concealed in hidden pockets stitched into their black leather pants. However, while moving in closer they bumped into the Dwarf sitting nearby which caused him to give Ouroboros a quick side glance. That look was enough to tell him that the stout, bearded figure had been listening in on their conversation and had been paying rapt attention to the events unfolding beside him. The Dwarf's eyes hinted at concern, and Ouroboros was able tell that he was trying to implore whether or not the Elf needed any assistance, but the swordsman only smiled and shook his head. Still, the shorter man rose from his stool to clear up a bit of space, and even managed to pull away the other fellows who were drinking nearby.

"Something funny, Elf?" Their leader asked heatedly.

"Funny? No, no, certainly not. I was just wondering what your name is."

"I don't reckon that's too important in your case. It's not like that sorta info will help ya much."

"Maybe not, but it would be nice to know the name of the man who killed me – consider it peace of mind." Ouroboros smiled at the lead thug.

The leader smirked and poked at his cheek with his tongue while shaking his head. "Sounds like an awful waste of time. Did ya tell my friends your name before puttin' them down like dogs?"

The Night Elf shrugged and pursed his lips dismissively. "Fair enough I suppose. Just trying to buy you folks some extra time!"

Ouroboros Bladesong threw himself back while kicking at the top of the table from below. The Defias thugs swore, and raised their arms to block the table as it flew at them, bowling the three man gang over like a set of dominoes. The Night Elf leapt to his feet and reached for his sword leaning against the wall as the men disentangled themselves from the table lying on top of them. With a single fluid motion Ouroboros slung the sheath over his shoulder and pulled the Bladesong on his foes just as they began rising to their feet.

Picking themselves up off the ground, the thugs were angered over how foolish the Night Elf had made them look. The three of them snarled at Ouroboros and brandished their daggers at him menacingly, but quickly backed away from the Elf upon seeing the great sword in his hands.

By now many of the patrons had risen from their seats and were trying to back away from the dangerous brawl. The patrons closest to the door rushed from the building in fright, but those on the second floor looked down over the rail with curiosity as the men and women closest to the combatants scattered like ants for safety to the far edges of the tavern. Likely seeking to score a few free drinks, the patrons sitting at the bar jumped over for safety and ducked down, though a few of them did poke their heads back up to see how the fight would unfold.

Holding the Bladesong before him defensively, Ouroboros slowly advanced toward the middle of the bar, allowing the three men to encircle him. With hunger in their eyes, the Night Elf was reminded of sharks circling their prey before diving in for the kill, and he wondered which of the men would make the first move. He kept his eyes trained on the one who did most of the talking, which wasn't very difficult for he decided to jump upon the center table and preside over the fight. Ouroboros doubted that he would be the one to go in first, after all, the leader of such groups almost never attacked first.

Sure enough, the man to Ouroboros' right rushed him with the dagger held high overhead. The Night Elf grinned now that he had an idea on how to handle the situation and he turned toward the attacker. Since his back was now turned toward the one who was previously to his left, the swordsman guessed that they were hoping to try and stab him in the back. Simple enough to take care of, after all, he'd been around for thousands of years, such a tactic was one that the Elven mercenary was more than familiar with. However, instead of focusing his own attack on the man rushing him, Ouroboros went for the one behind him. He waited for his attacker to close in on him, then, at the last moment, he stepped back to dodge the swing. The man behind Ouroboros then rushed at him from behind, thinking that the Elf was too busy watching out for the first one's knife, only to have the swordsman slam an armored elbow into his gut, forcing the wind from his lungs.

Breathless, he dropped the dagger and collapsed to his knees in pain. Ouroboros then spun around and scooped the fallen thug from the ground by his face. The Night Elf lifted him off the ground and slammed him against the wall, the back of his head hitting the oak walls particularly hard. Ouroboros released his sword for a brief moment, long enough to deliver a vicious punch to the thug's throat, which crushed his neck in and caused him to spit blood all over the Elf's wrist. He released the dying human and grabbed for his sword before it could hit the ground and then charged at his first attacker with the blade point held back.

The man was so shocked by the sudden turn of battle that he couldn't even move out of the Ouroboros' path, not that such a maneuver would have prolonged his life anyway. The swordsman closed the distance between himself and the thug within seconds. He smashed the hilt of his sword into the man's torso so hard that he lifted the human off of his feet, and continued to carry him toward the opposite wall. The patrons watching on the side shrieked in both terror and amazement as the Elf carried his foe toward the wall and they immediately cleared from where they would soon collide. When Ouroboros finally did reach the end point of his charge, the hilt of his blade drove itself even deeper into the man's stomach. A loud crack that was probably the thug's spine filled the air, but Ouroboros Bladesong didn't leave him to the life of a cripple. He quickly backed away from the falling man and turned his sword around in hand, then impaled his foe against the wall. The Night Elf placed a booted foot against the wall and kicked himself to free the blade from the oak.

As blood drained from the man's corpse and pooled on the floor, Ouroboros turned toward their leader, who still stood upon the table in the middle of the tavern. At this point in the fight he stared with unconcealed awe at the Elf who so easily bested his two companions as though they were nothing.

"If I took down three of your friends back in Moonbrook, what did you possibly imagine you would be able to do against me in the middle of Stormwind City?" Ouroboros shifted so that he was holding the point of the great sword toward the ringleader.

"I'm sorry! I don't know what I was thinking! We just wanted to avenge our friends is all, surely you can understand that! Please, let me leave here with my life and I'll never trouble you no more!"

"Oh, let you live so that you can harass somebody else after this? No can do… You should have stayed put with the rest of the trash." The Night Elf changed positions as if he were about to rush the man.

Fearing for his life, the thug dropped the dagger in his hand and tried to make a desperate dash for the door. However, the swordsman was much quicker, and before the human could even reach the midpoint of the table Ouroboros was behind him. The man stopped moving forward as his body started to convulse and a terrible wrenching came from his chest. As he started to cough blood all over himself, he looked down and found the tip of Ouroboros' great sword protruding from his chest, the leather chest piece cracked and flaking around the edge of where the blade pierced through. The Night Elf held the man there for only a moment before bringing his blade and the man's body back with it until kicked the corpse free from his sword.

Turning the sword point down so that the blood could drain off of the metal, Ouroboros looked down at the corpse, and then at the people who stood in absolute silence around him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Rage of the Blade Song – 11**

No one dared move after the bloody spectacle, and neither did it seem like those gathered even breathed. The Elven swordsman cautiously looked around at all the eyes that were trained on him as he took a cloth from the table and wiped clean his sword. When finished, he walked to the edge of the table and jumped to the floor. Still no one moved. Only after Ouroboros sheathed his sword did the circle of fear around him begin to dissipate, only to be replaced with hostility.

"You butchered them…all of them…even the boy too…" One voice said from the circle of spectators.

"Those men came at me first, declaring themselves to be a part of the Defias. Not only were they a threat to me, but to the Alliance as well. I did this city a favor; it's better that they be executed now than later." Ouroboros said, his voice calm and level.

But the people would hear nothing of it. "You're a killer and you've stained this tavern with their blood!"

"Just look at the youngin' he stuck up against the wall – stabbed right through the wall! The lad looks like 'e was hardly older than a boy!"

"Then he shouldn't have fought alongside men claiming to be a part of the gang that's plagued this city since it was built! He would have turned out just as vile as the two he was traveling with!" Ouroboros tried to make those gathered around him hear reason, but all they saw was an Elf kill three human men.

"Are the lot of ye so bloody daft that ya can't tell when a man was defendin' 'imself?" Shouted a grizzled voice that disrupted the crowd's angry murmuring. "It be clear as day that this man is speakin' the truth; the villains even have their red hangin' from their belts! Bah, let me through!"

A grizzled Dwarf pushed his way through the crowd from near the door. He had a proud mane of hair that no doubt looked like molten gold, but was fading to a dull light-yellow, along a great bushy beard that covered his entire chest and went a bit below the squat figure's waist. Grumbling and shaking his head, two beady eyes set between a furled brow and burly moustache looked around in annoyance. Ouroboros quickly realized that it was the same dwarf who had been sitting nearby right before the three men decided to attack. Though, unlike before, he now carried a shield on his back and had a small flanged mace strung to his belt.

"You have my thanks, Dwarf."

"Bah, I'm not doin' this cause I be fond of ya. But a man's got no right bein' badgered for defendin' 'imself from a few no-good scoundrels." The Dwarf looked around and though many of the patrons shook their heads, it appeared that they didn't intend to stop them. "C'mon, you should get outta here while ya can. This place has been disturbed enough as is."

Ouroboros said nothing and nodded his head. The Dwarf was right. He had clearly overstayed his welcome at the Pig and Whistle. The Night Elf allowed his benefactor to guide him to crowd gathered at the doorway, but, when they approached, the people did not part. The crowd bunched together tightly and, in their eyes, was open hostility. At the head of the crowd where they stopped were three large men who looked as if they had no intentions of going anywhere. As the swordsman gritted his teeth at the situation he noticed something curious. Looking past one of the men's shoulders, Ouroboros noticed the hooded figure from before standing behind the bouncers, and wondered what it is they could want.

"Move."

A man in front crossed his arms and glared down at the Dwarf. "Or what? You and the Elf gonna kill the whole lot of us? I don't think so."

The Dwarf matched the stare with one of his own, which caused the man to swallow, but nothing more.

"We should keep them in here until the guards arrive."

"Yeah, we'll let them sort out this mess and decide if he's guilty or not."

"It's not like they'll attack and ri-"

But the Dwarf interrupted the one speaking. "Ya know, if the lot of you insist, I just might do that."

Then everything happened so fast that Ouroboros wasn't sure what to do.

The Dwarf reached for the mace at his side, drawing gasps and shocking the crowd so much that they tried to back away in fright. However, as soon as the people started moving, there was a small flash on the floor and a great plume of smoke rose from among the crowd, enveloping everyone within it, including Ouroboros and the Dwarf. To the Night Elf's surprise, his eyes did not sting nor did his throat burn, but the smoke was so thick he could no longer make out his surroundings.

"What's going on? Is this one of their tricks? Watch for the Dwarf, he was reaching for a weapon!" Voices from the crowd yelled out as tavern patrons moved about the area in a panic.

The Dwarf at Ouroboros' side had vanished during the chaos and he had no idea where the man may have gone to, but the Night Elf was about to make a straight dash for the exit until someone in the crowd barreled over him. The swordsman lost his sense of direction as he picked himself up from the floor and found that he was still in the midst of the smokescreen. There were a couple of figures still around him, but none that he could make out too well. The person who knocked him over was also nearby and, as he too rose to his feet, he called out.

"I just ran into the Elf! Come to me and help restrain him!"

Ouroboros dropped into a combat stance and brought his hands up in preparation to defend himself. However, as he was getting ready to punch the man out, a soft voice spoke at him from behind, almost right next to his ear.

"I'll get you out of here."

Stunned that somebody had managed to get so close behind him without giving themselves away, Ouroboros stood in the smoke dumbfounded. All the same, the speaker grabbed at one of his raised hands, folding their own over it and pulling the Elf where they wanted to go. Off instinct he grabbed the hand as well and allowed his savior to guide him. The other person's grip was light, yet strong, and as Ouroboros enclosed his hand on their's as well, he realized that the hand pulling him was small as well.

Within moments they burst through the smokescreen and clamored into the street with several others who had been inside the tavern prior to the flash pellet going off. A few of the people recognized the Elf right away, and immediately called his identity out to those in the area.

"Damn it, follow me!"

As the people around them gathered to their feet, Ouroboros' rescuer, still holding his hand, pulled him down the street. Now that they were out in the open and away from the smokescreen, the Elf was able to get a good look at who had rescued him, and was surprised to see the hooded figure from before. Now that they were actually moving, he could see that whoever it was had a lithe body and they moved quickly – covered in all his armor, Ouroboros almost had a difficult time keeping up with the runner. Elves were generally taller than men already, but up close this figure seemed much smaller than he expected.

The person guiding him seemed to know where they were going, so Ouroboros continued to follow after them. However, as they turned down a street that would have led them toward the canals and a district where the Dwarves liked to work, a small group of guards rounded the corner as well and came straight at the pair.

Without a moment's hesitation, the Elf's hooded rescuer turned on their heel and led him into an alleyway off to the side. They continued to run down the narrow, winding pathways, moving so fast that Ouroboros had no time to let any of the scenery sink in. He was aware of a foul stench in the air, like old and rotted trash, but nothing more as they passed by penniless beggars lying or leaning against the walls. Eventually they left the confines of the alleyways and reached another exit to the canals, this one putting them close to the Trade District.

As they departed from the Old Town to follow the city's waterway their pace lessened, and the two of them were able to walk much more calmly. The hooded figure then released his hand.

"We'll take the long way and walk around to the Dwarven District. I don't want to risk running into any guards while we're still so close to Old Town." His rescuer said over their shoulder.

Ouroboros had been wrong. The voice that came from under the brown hood wasn't soft, it was light and feminine, but the speaker also sounded full of confidence. "After how that crowd reacted, I couldn't agree more. I'll follow your lead."

Without looking at him, she nodded. The woman started to walk more briskly and Ouroboros had to quicken his pace to keep up with her, but had no trouble staying at her side. They walked together in silence. The Night Elf was curious as to why the woman had decided to come to his rescue, but decided that he would withhold any questions he had for her until they reached wherever their destination was. Besides, his rescuer had made a valid point. The last thing he wanted to do was run into any guards who might be on the lookout for a Night Elf in armor. He could fend off peasants, but to defend himself from the city guard would be looked at as treason. It was better that the two of them stay on the move.

Speaking truthfully, the walk had definitely been a long one. By walking back along the outskirts of the Trade and Cathedral districts their venture had taken a little over two hours, but they eventually made it to the Dwarven District only shortly after the sun set.

Even at night the Dwarves could be heard working into the evening. The clang of hammers on steel rang in the distance, and the faint sound of forges being fed a steady stream of air found its way to Ouroboros' ears. Smoke from the smiths' fires clouded the air, and, despite the brisk chill from the air outside the district, the air was warm in here. Furthermore, the place felt like it was truly alive, like the people there were actually busy living their lives.

The woman led him to the left almost as soon as they passed into the district from its entrance facing the Cathedral. They walked toward a street lined with buildings that looked more appropriate for homes than stores, but several of them had been clearly refurnished to be the latter.

Together they walked to doorway of one building that looked as if it were still meant for living. Without so much as a glance at Ouroboros, she kept her gaze to the ground and knocked. After a moment or two they heard someone fiddling around on the on the inside and the same Dwarf from earlier opened the door.

"Gods! I was beginning to worry if you'd been captured by that mob back there! I'm glad ta see ya back here safe and sound lass."

The hooded woman walked forward and kneeled down to give the Dwarf a warm hug. "Thank you Kroog. We wouldn't have been able to get out of there at all if you hadn't gotten that crowd so worked up."

Even with only the light from a nearby lamp that burned on the wall, it was clear as day that the Dwarf was blushing under his beard as the woman pulled away. "Oh speak nothing of it lass. After all the times your father and I shared together, I'd be more than glad to help out his kin whenever they ask for it. Come in, come in! Make yourself at home while you're here – I don't get many visitors these days." As the woman gave Kroog her thanks and walked in, the Dwarf looked at Ouroboros sternly. "Well come on now, the girl just risked her hide to save yours. Don't just stand in the doorway out in the open, get in here too."

Ouroboros opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly closed it and accepted the offer instead. As he stepped past Kroog, the Dwarf closed the door behind him and locked it. He then moved by the Elf and headed for the stairway, disappearing upstairs.

The house was well-lit with several oil lamps burning around the home, as well as candles among them. Kroog seemed to be a fairly simple Dwarf, as most of his kind were, and kept around only essentials. There was a cupboard with dining wear lining some of its shelves against the far wall, and, beside it, another cupboard filled with bottles of ale. The furnishings were simple, and the place lacked very many decorations, but it felt like a warm home all the same. Sitting at a table that had a chair set at each of its four sides in the middle of the room was the hooded woman, who motioned for Ouroboros to sit across from her when she noticed him looking.

He did as she bade him, and the Night Elf moved over to the table. Removing the greatsword from his back and leaning it against the table, he sat down and gave his rescuer an inquisitive stare, crossing his arms over his chest as he did so.

"Two things… Why were you following me, and why did you rescue me back at the tavern?"

However, the hooded woman didn't answer him. Instead she sat across from him and stared, stared at him with those piercing gray eyes of hers from beneath the hood she wore while her forearms rested on the table. Finally she reached up and started to undo the cloth that wrapped around her head and covered her face.

As the hood drew away a curtain of black hair fell over her shoulders and framed the girl's face.

"My name is Selina Torwell. The girl who was attacked is my friend, and I was tracking down the men that you killed in Moonbrook." She sighed and hesitated before continuing. "I wanted to thank you for killing them…and ask for your help in getting one more."


	12. Chapter 12

As Selina told him about herself, Ouroboros stared at her blankly. Her steely gray eyes pierced his own, and he could see the strength of her resolve behind them. However, the Night Elf hadn't expected for the woman beneath the hood to be so beautiful, and he felt transfixed as he looked upon her.

Selina's hair continued to fall around her face, dangling playfully as though she may hide behind the tousled strands. Her lips were full and the Elf could tell that this was a woman who liked to smile, despite the disappointed frown she now wore. She had smooth ivory skin that seemed to possess a pearlescent glow under the present candlelight, and, if not for her rescue, Ouroboros would have never believed a woman such as herself would have ever stepped out into the sun.

"So do you think you can help me, or not?"

The Night Elf shook his head as if he were trying to regain his focus. "Well…what's in it for me?"

"Gold, weapons, armor… Name it, and it's yours."

"Can you make me King?"

"Let's try to stick to the material…"

Ouroboros chuckled. "Hold on a moment, let's start at the beginning, because I have some questions for my _rescuer_. How did you find me?"

Selina drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. It was clear she wasn't too comfortable speaking, or at the least used to it. "As I mentioned, the girl that was attacked is my friend. When I heard about what happened I went to her as soon as I could. It wasn't very easy since her Father isn't too fond of the work I do."

"And what might that be?"

Selina withdrew her arms from the table and leaned back in the chair. "That's really none of your business…"

Ouroboros laughed after seeing how quickly she became defensive. "Do you always come to people for help with an attitude? Please, continue."

Squinting at the Elf, she carried on. "Anyway, I would have gone after the thugs sooner myself, but I had to wait a few days for her Father to leave her side. I'd gone into Moonbrook a couple of times looking for the men that attacked her, but I couldn't find them on any of my visits. So, when I heard that they contacted another mercenary for help and learned from my friend that it was an Elf, I was curious as to how things would go. When I heard what you did to the guys who attacked her, and then watched you fight off the thugs at the bar, I knew I could count on you for help."

"From what it sounds like you were all pumped to go after those other three on your own without any help. Why would you come asking for help now?"

"I'm too easily recognized over there. They'll see me coming if I go alone, but you made a lot of that gang mad with that stunt you pulled, so they'll be looking out to get you…but I want to be the one to kill the guy we're after."

Ouroboros turned in the chair so that he could rest his elbow on top of it while scratching his head. As he looked at Selina the fire in her eyes burned more passionately. She really wanted this man dead.

"Before I agree to anything I'd like a bit more info on the target we're looking for. I know next to nothing about this whole thing, and I'm not too thrilled about the idea of going into this blind."

Selina sighed wearily, and her frowned twitched with displeasure at the prospect of saying anything more.

"I could always just get up and go…"

"And if you do that I'll inform the authorities on you!"

Ouroboros' eyes narrowed on the woman and he took his arm off the chair so that he could cross them both over his chest. However, before he could say anything back to her, Selina continued.

"I'm sorry… I told my friend I wouldn't talk about it with anybody, and I was hoping you would be more..."

"More what?"

"Well, let's just say I was hoping you would be happy with the gold and that's it. Since my friend is noble-born if this were to get out she could wind up in a lot of trouble, and I didn't want to put her in that kind of position."

"Just trust me. I've been around for a long time, so it's not my place to judge. I can honestly never understand why the case is so different with you humans."

Selina sighed again. "My friend was involved with one of the men that attacked her. She met him while performing one of her charity routines. At first he was charming toward her, in a roguish sort of way as she puts it, but he kept insisting that she leave Sentinel Hill and go to Moonbrook with him. Well, you've been there already, so I don't need to tell you that she wasn't comfortable with that idea, but he just kept pestering her about it. I guess we know why he was so persistent now…"

"Say no more. I'm in."

"Just like that? What do you want in exchange for your help?"

"Nothing. I've done some pretty horrible things to people in the time I've been alive, but I like to think I did it for the right reasons. What these criminals have done is vile. If what you say is true, and I have no reason to doubt you, then it would seem I haven't finished the job yet as it is. I can't just up and leave with that on my conscious."

The woman sitting across from Ouroboros looked at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah… I am. So do you know where this guy is?"

Selina nodded her head with renewed enthusiasm. "I do. His name is John, and, while he liked to visit the tavern in Moonbrook pretty frequently, he and his friends chose to stay in a cave further down the coast. There are a lot of bad people in that town and John probably figured that it'd be safer for a criminal to steer clear of other thieves. Here, let me show you on my map."

Selina turned and reached into a small satchel that was slung over the back of her chair and produced a small scroll. She unrolled the parchment as she turned toward the table again and put it down flat in the middle of the table. Sure enough, Ouroboros found himself looking at a map of Westfall that was covered with little notes and markings left by the owner.

"John should be somewhere around here…" The Night Elf looked to a circle near the middle of the coast that Selina was pointing out. The location marked was North West of where Moonbrook was situated, and almost directly west of Sentinel Hill.

"I know the place. There's quite a few Murlocs on the coast over there, and the ridge occasionally has patrols of Gnolls. Really that's kind of smart… Not too many people would think to go looking for a hideout that's unintentionally being guarded by vicious vermin."

Selina looked up from the map to stare at him. "You're still willing to help?"

"If a few Murlocs or Gnolls were enough to make me change my mind, I would have never left Teldrassil in the first place. Don't worry, I've still got your back. So when would you like to head out for this guy?"

"The sooner; the better."

The Night Elf yawned as the young woman spoke. "Normally I'd agree and be out the door already, but I've had a pretty day. It feels like we'll have to start on this mission tomorrow or I'll be next to useless."

"Oh, that's certainly fine." She said while rising from the chair and rolling the map back up. "If you need a place to stay I'm sure Kroog won't mind you being here."

As if he'd been listening in on their conversation the whole time, the Dwarf suddenly shouted out to them from the second floor. "Just don't break anything and you can make yourself right at home!"

Turning his gaze from the ceiling and back toward Selina, the Elf was surprised to catch a faint smile on her face before it faded away.

"Before we get some rest, why don't we give each other a proper introduction?"

They looked each other over for a moment. He caught the doubt that was in her eyes, but she sighed and nodded her head nonetheless before walking over to him and taking the hand he held out in offering.

"Selina Torwell."

"Ouroboros Bladesong." As they shook hands Ouroboros' grip tightened and he pulled Selina in closer while whispering. "I like you, but don't you ever threaten to get the guards on me again. I'm not afraid to become a felon."

They each let go of the other's hand, "The guest room is mine. You can have the couch."

While the mercenary could only smile at her, Selina gave him a cold stare before sharply turning and walking up the stairs.

(-****-)

It was afternoon, and the sun beat down warmly on the ravaged plains of Westfall. Ouroboros and Selina stood atop a hill of dead grass with the occasional bit of bramble growing from the baked earth. Together they looked to be staring out at the sea as they stood side-by-side, the human woman barely coming up to the tall Elf's shoulders. However, rather than the blue ocean currently producing soft foamy waves that lapped gently at the shore while Murlocs frolicked in its waters, the odd couple were busy looking at a different sight.

About only half a mile from the shore was another hill that looked to have been split in half to form a ravine. According to Selina, it was inside that little canyon where they would find John and avenge the girl's friend.

The two of them still had some distance to go before they would be at their destination, but it wouldn't take them long to close the gap. Though it was difficult to do so, from the hill they stood at they could make out the occasional movement of tiny figures in brown moving around the ravine. Each one wore a red bandana wrapped around their neck or covering their face.

Wearing the same suit of dark plated armor, Ouroboros Bladesong turned toward the woman at his side. "Well, I guess this is the place… I'd ask if you really think he's inside, but those watchers in red tell me everything I need to know."

"Yeah, they're the reason I haven't been able to get in on my own to castrate the little bastard…" Not once did she take her eyes off of the ravine while she spoke.

Ouroboros continued to look at her while she was busy taking in the situation. Selina was wearing an outfit similar to the one she wore yesterday, however, instead of brown, she wore black leather instead. Though she continued to wear the cloth hood, and the Night Elf wondered how she could endure being in the sun dressed so. While they had walked together in silence, her occasional movement caused the dark brown cloak she wore to brush aside, revealing the daggers fastened to her waist. Whether or not Selina actually knew how to use them, Ouroboros couldn't say, and there was no way the Elf intended to find out so long as he was there to do the fighting.

"Last night during our conversation I got the feeling that you had tried to sneak in here before."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well if that's the case, why didn't they just capture you?"

"John knows I'm friends with Cathleen, and he doesn't want to risk hurting me and having her tell the guards about this place."

"But wouldn't she have to confess about her relationship with him, and get herself in trouble?"

"We're like sisters. If that scumbag did anything to me Cat would do whatever she could to see him suffer. Just like I'm going to do for her…"

Ouroboros nodded and looked back to the ravine, understanding such a bond completely. "So what, you need me to kill them so you can get by or something?"

"No, nothing like that just yet… Just keep on walking toward the ravine and let them capture you. Like I said, you pissed John and his crew off when you killed their friends, so they'll take you to him."

"Alright, and what will you be doing in the meantime?"

When nobody answered him Ouroboros looked to his side, only to discover that Selina was no longer there. Looking around, the Elven mercenary quickly spotted her heading for a tree down at the base of the hill. Since she was too far away to hear him, and Ouroboros didn't want to risk shouting on top of the hill, he threw his hands in the air hopelessly. Looking at Selina's back and the fluttering cloak she wore for only a moment longer, the swordsman began his walk to the ravine.

(-****-)

"Well what do we have here?" A bandit with a cloth over half his face asked Ouroboros, who came to a stop before the gang's patrol leader. The man glared at him through two narrow eyes as the rest of the bandits circled around the Elf.

"Well Jored, you said the worm who butchered our boys the other day was over here, and you weren't lyin'… Good job lad." Then, to Ouroboros he said. "You'd best not make any sudden movements if you don't want to die yet, Elf. John's been hopin' you'd pass through this neck of the woods after what you did, and, what do ya know? Here you are…"

As he drew closer to the ravine, Ouroboros knew that it was only a matter of time before one of the watchers did. Not a very stealthy man, the one who did may as well have been screaming out to Ouroboros when he took off running and disappeared into the ravine, and it took all of the Elf's willpower to resist chasing after him. Soon enough the watcher returned with a group of several others following after him, and he continued to approach until they finally spread out to encircle them.

"I'm glad to hear it, because I've been looking to see John too. Your friend has some atonement to do before I leave these parts."

The bandit laughed cruelly while the men around him snickered. "I heard you were a funny one. Barging into the tavern and just expectin' people to start talkin'. Oh yeah, you're a real riot… Hand over your sword."

As the thugs around him drew in tighter, Ouroboros defensively reached for the great sword on his back. At the same time, the bandits raised their own weapons and everybody stopped moving.

"No sudden movements there, Elf! Draw the blade out slowly and toss it to the side or we'll run you through right now!"

Utterly surrounded by the enemy, Ouroboros had no choice but to do as they said and turn over his weapon. The Elf gripped the hilt of the Bladesong and slowly pulled it from its sheath. Once the blade was free he slowly crouched down with the sword held out, and tossed it aside.

"Good, that's real good…"

The bandit leader nodded to those on the side, and two of the men immediately ran forward to pick up the great sword. At the same time they were taking his weapon away, their leader came forward holding a black cloth sack in his hands.

"Alright now, you're comin' with us…" The bandit then placed the sack over Ouroboros' head, and he knew no more as his world went dark.


	13. Chapter 13

He wasn't sure exactly far he'd been forced to walk, but the Night Elf knew that it hadn't been for very long. However, the sack cloth over his eyes didn't make traversing the uneven slopes any easier, and Ouroboros stumbled occasionally as he walked, though the men guiding him certainly had no trouble kicking him back up and pushing him forward. Thus in this manner he was led to the cave that John and his crew chose to use as their hideout.

The Elf could tell right away that he was in the cave when they reached it. The ground evened out and became more firm, meanwhile, the scrapes of the group's steps carried more, especially to his sensitive Elven ears. Ouroboros hoped they would reach their destination soon, for it was beginning to grow stifling inside the sack, and moving around so much without his sight had started to get his head spinning.

Finally, after several minutes of walking through the winding cavern, two thugs on either side of Ouroboros took him by the shoulders and forcefully led him ahead at a quicker pace. They eventually kicked him just behind his knees, which caused him to fall forward and he barely managed to turn just enough to catch himself with his arm, rather than the face. The Night Elf realized that he felt the heat of a fire just in front of him before being grabbed by the shoulders once again. This time he was lifted up to look straight ahead. Only then did they finally remove the cloth that covered his head.

After being left in the dark for so long the initially sight of the small blaze was too bright for Ouroboros' eyes and he looked away with a scowl, the flash of his white teeth piercing the darkness of his cropped beard.

Nobody forced him to look ahead again, and so the Elven swordsman stared at the shadow of a man to his left until he could look about more easily. It didn't take long for his Night Elf eyes to adjust themselves, and he finally looked forward again. Sitting across from him on the other side of the fire were two men. One of them was the bandit who had kept his lower face covered, and continued to do so, while leading the group that captured him. The other was a dashing young man with a closely trimmed goatee, and who kept his black hair pulled back in a ponytail. A mischievous smile played on his lips, and at first the Elf thought him cocky, but then he saw the coldness in the man's eyes.

So this was John.

They stared at one another with neither man speaking, but instead the listened to the crackle of the flames. At length, John took a deep breath and broke the silence.

"Well you are a Night Elf and, to top things off, you even had that great sword on you… So you're the one who killed our guys over in Moonbrook yesterday?"

Ouroboros calmly looked around the room and checked out those who surrounded him. There were seven in total, including their leader. Three of them stood guard just behind where the Elf kneeled, two more were on either side of him, and the last two stood just across the way. That meant that there were three missing, and he figured that they had stayed at the cave entrance or returned to their posts around the ravine.

"You're John, right?"

John smirked more openly, and nodded his head at the question.

"Then yes, if those were your friends that died I killed them. I assume you also heard what I did after I killed them too then."

John's smirk vanished and he looked to become more serious. "Yeah, I did hear about that. I've actually been toying around with the idea in my mind to do the same thing to you, only you'll have the pleasure of being awake for it." The man shook his head. "How do you know my name?"

"You're a general nuisance in Westfall. Somebody wanted you dead, so here I am."

John chuckled momentarily. "While that sounds more than likely, it's too coincidental for you to have killed my guys. Besides, there aren't too many people who know that I like to use this little cove."

Ouroboros shrugged. "Did it ever occur that you're just getting sloppy?"

"Hah, you're a cheeky one… Hit him."

A fist came in from the Elf's left and caught him square in the face. As he was knocked aside, Ouroboros bit down on his own cheek and the taste of copper filled his mouth. The swordsman spat out a mixture of blood and spit that appeared black on the ground as he picked himself up.

"I've encountered children who hit me harder than that." He said, rising to look John in the eyes while blood trickled from the corner of the Elf's mouth and into his beard.

"Who told you about this place?"

"Does it matter? I'm here now, and I think that's what you need to concern yourself with."

"There's no way Cat would have talked; she wouldn't dare risk her Dad getting too involved with this." The smug bastard then smiled. "It was her friend wasn't it? That bitch keeps sticking her nose where it doesn't belong and I've been ignoring it so Cat doesn't do anything rash. Don't bother saying anything, your eyes told me I hit the nail on the head."

Ouroboros clicked his jaw in irritation. It was true, his eyes had widened a bit when John actually connected the dots. He figured the man to be smart, but he was too quick for his own good. The Night Elf dared flex his hands a bit to test the strength of the rope, and unfortunately found them too strong. Nothing short of a knife would help him cut out of these bonds.

"You look tense Elf, are you worried about something? Selina put you up to tracking me down, didn't she? Well don't worry, after we're done with you we'll find her and, after my guys get to have their fun with the bitch we'll kill her too. As for keeping Cat quiet, I may have to visit the city some time and check up on her…"

"I really wouldn't advise that. I'm sure a guy like you would only get caught."

Ouroboros refused to show it, but he was beginning to panic. Now that John had pieced everything together, the Elf doubted that they would need to hold onto him any longer, and he didn't like the prospect of taking the seven of the men on while his hands remained bound behind his back. As he kneeled in their midst contemplating what he should do, Ouroboros frantically wondered what Selina had planned, if she even had anything at all.

"Oh I doubt that. After all, it wouldn't be the first time that I've stolen into that house. It's amazing what a soaked rag can do to a person. We're done here. Get this purple skinned bastard outta here, but don't kill him. I've decided that I want him to watch what happens to Selina before we kill em both."

John and his crew started to laugh, and the thugs to Ouroboros' sides started to move in. He considered attacking the men as they got closer, but a furious scream stopped everybody in their tracks.

_"You filthy pig, how dare you touch my friend!"_

Then the Night Elf heard two of the men behind him gasp and yell in shock before the thud of their bodies falling to the floor reached him. A knife whizzed by just overhead, flying straight for John, but he and the man beside him dodged to the side.

"What the hell is going on?" John yelled, his shout echoing through the cavern.

Using the distraction to his advantage, Ouroboros quickly leapt to his own two feet, butting the top of his head into the chin of the man on his right. Turning toward the other thug who, shock by what was going on, fumbled with the sword at his waist. The Night Elf leaned back and delivered a mighty kick to the man's torso, which knocked him back and caused the man to bash the back of his head against the wall behind him. In a single fluid motion, the Elf knelt down and drew forth enough of the blade out of the thug's belt to start cutting away at his bonds.

Of the three guards who'd been standing watch, the lone survivor started to run at Ouroboros, drawing his own sword to kill the escaping prisoner. However, after only taking a few steps he was run down from behind. The man suddenly ceased moving and went rigid, his mouth gaping in shock as he was stabbed in the back. Selina twisted away from the corpse as she pulled out her two daggers, and let the body fall away to the side.

By now, John and his remaining companion had recovered their senses and moved forward to deal with the threat. Without even bothering to give him a glance, John went straight for Selina, who appeared eager for the confrontation, while the man who kept his face covered leapt at Ouroboros. However, the Night Elf managed to cut through the last cord binding his wrists just as John's helper bore down on him. Drawing forth the blade from behind him, the Elf managed to parry the attack and, while the thug continued forward, Ouroboros Bladesong used the momentum of the deflect to help rise to his own feet.

As Ouroboros and the masked man faced off, the Elf looked past his foe's shoulders toward Selina. Only moments ago she had been on the attack, forcing John to step backward to avoid being diced, but the crafty sneak found a way past her attack and reversed the tables on her. The swordsman wished to aid his partner, but there was no way he'd be able to do so until the immediate thread had been taken care of, and so he hoped that the girl would be able to hold out on her own.

The Elf's attacker snarled and came at him with a sideways strike, but Ouroboros easily deflected the blow. However, unlike the rabble before him, this man was vicious, and switched the momentum of his thrown off attack into a lunge for the Night Elf's throat.

Ouroboros noticed the change though and quickly stepped aside. As the man passed him by he slugged at the masked attacker's head, which caused him to sprawl against the wall for support. The Night Elf slashed at his foe's neck, but the man recovered faster than expected, and dodged beneath the attack to get behind the Elf, causing Ouroboros to only gouged stone. However, knowing that the thug had retreated behind him, he spun with his attack and whirled around, only to have the man block his attack.

The two of them traded strike-after-strike, with neither side seeming to relent. Whatever his past, the man with the mask fought well, and Ouroboros, amid their grunting and the clash of steel, found himself wondering why a man like him would be fighting alongside mere bandits. Still, the fight couldn't be allowed to last for much longer. Selina and John had carried their fight back around the bend toward the entrance to the cave, and Ouroboros worried for the girl's safety.

In an attempt to be obvious, the Night Elf went for an overhead swing, and his foe took the bait. The masked fighter caught the strike against his own blade, but before he could attempt to disarm the Elf, Ouroboros took hold of the man's wrist with his free hand.

The thug let out an audible gasp of surprise, and started to reach for something in his boot, but he never got the chance to complete the maneuver. The Night Elf twisted the man's hand out of the way, which caused him to let out a yelp of pain, and lunged forward to bash his head against the thug's face.

There was a loud crack, and Ouroboros was sure that he had broken the man's nose. For his part, the masked man was so disoriented by the blow that he would have collapsed to the ground if not for the Night Elf holding onto his wrist. Unable to defend himself from what came next, the Elf's sword plunged deep into the man's heart and ended his life.

Leaving the sword inside his foe's chest, Ouroboros released his grip on the man's wrist and let the body fall to the ground as a pool of blood slowly spread out from the corpse. The Night Elf quickly looked around the area before finding what he was looking for: the Bladesong rested peacefully against one of the larger rocks that another of John's companions had been using to lean on. Taking up the great broadsword, the Elf turned and ran from the cave to seek out Selina.

(-****-)

Ouroboros had returned all the way to the cavern entrance when he finally found Selina kneeling at the feet of John's dead body. Where the cove opened up into the ravine he also found the bodies of the three guards who'd remained outside, finally realizing that the girl had killed them as well. Seeing as she wasn't moving away from the body, but remained hunched and looked to be heaving up and down, the Elf approached her.

As he drew closer to Selina, he discovered that she was sobbing. Her daggers, both of them used and bloodied, lay beside her in the dirt. John's eyes were opened wide, and a thin trail of blood came from his mouth and dripped down his chin onto his chest, and his neck was sliced open.

Finally she stopped sobbing and coarsely said a single word. "Bastard…"

"Are you hurt?"

Selina shook her head. "He's the first person I've ever killed…who I wasn't ordered to do so…"

Ouroboros said nothing, but stood by quietly.

He waited beside Selina until she could cry no more, and simply stared at the body. The sun was beginning to set now, and it cast an orange glow over the plains of Westfall. Soon it would be night. Then the Night Elf walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Come on… Let's get back to the inn at Sentinel Hill before nightfall. We'll return to Stormwind in the morning."

Selina said nothing, but nodded her head. She picked up the blades resting beside her and wiped the blood off using an edge of John's clothing as a rag. Then the Human and the Elf departed from the ravine together.


	14. Chapter 14

**Rage of the Blade Song – 14**

When the next morning came, both human and Elf flew to Stormwind by gryphon-back, returning to the Alliance capital before the morning had yet grown old.

The skies that day were clear, while hardly a breeze disturbed the sleeping land. As they flew swiftly over the dusty plains of Westfall a red dawn lit up the sky, and the ocean blazed as if alive with red flames. While staring at the brilliant spectacle, Ouroboros thought of his homeland lying across the seas.

With Deathwing's fall and the discovery of Pandaria in the far south tensions between the Horde and Alliance had sparked, just like the days of old. As one foe fell the drums of war were pounded for another, and the whole of Azeroth was consumed by a familiar rage. Even his ancient homeland wasn't left unscathed: with Mount Hyjal left to recover from the ashes, and the forests of Ashenvale the current front for the Horde's warpath, the once glorious Night Elves were being pressed into a tight corner from a vicious enemy.

"I never should have left, but…" Ouroboros said aloud, now voicing his thoughts knowing that they'd be lost to the wind rushing past their ears.

Yet Selina seemed to notice his mouth move, for the young sneak came up beside the sell-sword and motioned at him, as though questioning whether he wanted for them to land. The Elf shook his head and pointed in front of him, where the sprawling city lay straight ahead, and then turned away to brace himself for their descent into the Aviary.

Selina Torwell returned to her previous position and then did the same. She gripped the reins in her hand and looked forward with determination – landing these things always scared the girl, for she worried the animal would rear her off – yet as they flew her eyes continued to flicker toward the brooding swordsman.

(-****-)

The pair reached the gryphon aviary with little problems; Selina did come at the ground too fast, and the animal squawked loudly at her after having to run a short distance before stopping. This caused the girl to let out a sharp yelp, while Ouroboros laughed at the whole display. Then, after both had landed and were well on their feet, they paid the carrier their fare and departed down into the city streets.

When they stepped out from the aviary tower the first thing they noticed was that a larger crowd than usual now bustled about. Curious to know what the commotion was about, and their task now complete, the Night Elf prepared to set out and turned toward his companion.

"Well Selina Torwell, I wish you luck in your travels and your pursuits."

"Wait, where are you going?"

"With that last job finished, I figured that I would set out into the city. Things seem busier than usual around here, I'm curious to know why."

Selina looked away from the Elf and toward the city, where she finally realized that he was right about there being more people than was expected. The faces of the citizens seemed worried and there appeared more guards on the street; even some of the Night Elven sentinels roamed around in greater number.

"Well you won't have much luck asking around out here. Follow me to Kroog's. He's bound to have heard the gossip flying around while we were gone."

Ouroboros shrugged. "Well at least then I'll be getting the info from someone I can trust. Lead on then, Miss Torwell."

"Don't call me Miss again, or I'll pull off one of your ears… It makes me feel old and rickety."

The two of them walked together in silence for some time, making their way out of the Trade District as quick as they could and sticking to walking around the canals to get around. It was a longer route travelling through the city this way, but all the districts seemed to be buzzing with more activity than was usual; and neither one doubted that the Dwarven District would be any different.

Finally, at length, Selina broke the silence between them.

"What did you say earlier when we were approaching Stormwind?"

Ouroboros shook his head as if pulled from some deep thought. "Hm? Oh, it was nothing."

"Well you had to have at least mouthed something; no idiot would open their mouth while flying. They'd probably end up chewing on some bug otherwise!"

"When you're starving those don't make for a bad meal… I was just saying something to myself."

"What was it?"

"Trust me, it was nothing important."

At that, Selina gave the Night Elf a wicked grin. "If you were talking to yourself then I might have to report you to the guards anyway. These are desperate times. We can't have any crazy folk running around the city."

Ouroboros grumbled irritably, and though he didn't buy her bluff, he told the girl what she wanted to know. "I said that I shouldn't have left my homeland."

"That seems like something random to say. Where'd that come from?"

"Selena, you do realize that there's a battlefront on the other side of the sea, right?"

"What I meant was, if you're worried then why did you leave in the first place?"

"Ahah, well it wasn't exactly by choice. I was put on leave away from the front lines several months back. Well, even though the military didn't want me fighting, I couldn't sit around idle, and so I came here, to the Eastern Kingdoms, and started lending my sword wherever it was needed. Honestly, I was probably allowed to return by now, but I got so distracted over here that I never made the time to return to Teldrassil."

Selina blinked in amazement. "Wow, that's a lot of travelling…"

"I guess for most it'd be, but after wandering for 10,000 years it becomes routine."

"So why were you put on leave?"

"Is there a reason you ask so many questions?"

"Sorry, it's a habit I picked up being around members of SI:7."

"What? Are you telling me that you're part of the SI:7?"

"Well, if I was, it's not like I could tell you that anyway. I've just around a number of interrogations in my time."

"So why would I answer a question like that in return?"

The girl smiled and chuckled lightly. "Because I'm off-duty. So are you going to tell me, or what?"

Ouroboros sighed and rubbed his chin for several moments. "Because I had a breakdown on the battlefield…"

"Oh…"

Selina asked no more questions after that, and, though the city murmured with much anticipation as midday encroached upon the land, a heavy silence hung in the air.

(-****-)

When they entered the home Selina called out to announce their arrival. "Kroog, we've returned."

"Well isn't that a fine way to start my afternoon?" His gruff voice called out from somewhere in the house, before the Dwarf walked out from around the kitchen corner. The home smelled of warm bread, salted meat, and, as expected, ale. "I was just makin' myself a batch of breakfast before headin' over to the forges. I thought I'd have today off, but it seems that they'll be needin' another few pair o' hands at the smithy. Oh, right, breakfast. Anyway, you're both more than welcome to join me if you'd like."

"Thanks Kroog, but I have to go upstairs and work on something real quick."

"Ah, the letter – so the deed is done then?"

"Yes," then she turned toward Ouroboros and held out her hands as though showcasing a prize. "Our friend here has a few questions to ask of you, so maybe one of us will at least be taking up your offer."

Kroog, the Dwarf, turned his head slightly to the side and eyed the Elf. "Does he now? Well you go on ahead dear and take care of business. As for you, swordsman, feel free to leave your gear in the corner and take a seat at the table. Meanwhile, I'll fetch us a bite to eat."

"Thank you Kroog."

They each went away from each other: Selina walking up the stairs; Kroog returning to his kitchen; and Ouroboros to his great sword along the corner wall. The Elf then followed his host's steps toward the kitchen and seated himself at the table. The Dwarf had already set out one plate, and was in the midst of preparing another.

"Actually Kroog, I'll be fine with a piece of bread and water. I'm feeling a bit light in my head at the moment."

"Well I can help with the bread, but I don't have any water. There's only ale."

"You're kidding. Then what did you simmer the meat in?"

"Don't look so daft boy; ale of course!" The Dwarf laughed upon seeing the aghast look on his visitor's face, and followed up the remark. "I do have some kegs o' melon juice though."

"That would be fine."

He waited at the table while Kroog gathered the rest of the meal, and, before long, everything was set and the two were seated and enjoying a meal together. Ouroboros took a bite from the chunk of bread Kroog put on his plate, and chewed the still warm loaf thoughtfully. To follow-up the bite he took a sip from the wooden mug filled with chilled melon juice; it was almost too sweet to the taste, but then watered down fast enough; part of a seedling managed to find its way into the drink as well, which Ouroboros eagerly chewed as though eating a nut.

After a few more bites, the Night Elf finally spoke. "Since you mentioned helping at the forge, I guess it's safe to say you're not a part of SI:7 like Selina is?"

Kroog chuckled. "She told ya about that, did she?"

"More-or-less, she hinted at it enough at least. She's very skilled, so I'm honestly not too surprised."

"Aye, that girl Selina's a gifted lass she is. As for me, I help maintain her equipment, just like the father before."

"Her father?"

"Aye, he was a member of SI:7 too, pretty high up there, and I helped him with his gear as well. He was a damned good agent, one of their best, and he taught Selina all he could. Alas, the old bloke is retired now; bought himself a little cabin in the woods somewhere out in Elwynn."

"So Selina was trained by her father to be an agent?"

"Well, yes, her adopted father anyway. Came across her while she was just a baby, only one in the village to survive; he couldn't just leave her to die." Then Kroog went rigid, and a look came across his face as though he'd said too much. "Bah, there I go ramblin'! So what did ya want to ask?"

"Ah…" The Elf said before pinching his forehead between his thumb and index finger. "I was wondering if you knew what all the commotion was that's going on in the city. The place was terribly busy when Selena and I left from the aviary tower, and things didn't seem to have settled down much while we walked here."

"When did the two of you get back?"

"Just before the sun had risen fully."

"Oh my, then that means you missed the announcement."

"What announcement?" Ouroboros asked while clenching his fingers.

"Couriers rode through the districts earlier this morning with news from across the seas. I hate to be the one to tell ya this lad, but it seems that the Horde hit your people pretty hard over there. The Alliance front over in Kalimdor has been pushed back quite some ways. No one has said it, but things sound pretty bad. So there's a huge rush to get new fighters out there, not to mention equipment."

Ouroboros sat in silence for the rest of the meal. He remained looking calm, but it was clear that the color had drained from his purple face turning him pale. The Elf appeared suddenly weary, and in his eyes was a deep sense of worry.

When Kroog finished eating he gave his guest a concerned look before taking his plate to the counter. As he moved to leave the house, the Dwarf put a hand on Ouroboros' shoulder. "I'm sure things are fine lad. Your Elven lot across the seas are whispered as legendary for your skill. This will be a short laugh for the Horde, mark my words!"

Done speaking, the Dwarf took off out the door, while Ouroboros remained sitting at the table. He stayed unmoving for a long while, only staring at the food on his plate, until the sound of Selina's feet scuffling on the floor above brought him back from his worrisome thoughts.

The Elf pushed himself away from the table and went to put his plate beside Kroog's. By the time he finished with that, Selina was already down the stairs and standing beside the door.

"Well, did you have a nice talk with – what's wrong? It looks like you're worried about something."

Ouroboros breathed out slowly. "Apparently the news that has everybody so riled up was a report from Ashenvale. It seems that the Horde have broken past the front – that they've beaten back my people…"

"Oh my…"

"Yeah… So I'm going to head out there and see what can be done."

The Night Elf started to walk past her and reach for the Bladesong.

"Wait a minute. Go with me to my friend's house real quick and I'll help you get more information on what happened, maybe even the means for you to get over there as quick as possible."

"Hm, why would you do that?"

"You scratched my back, so I figure I can return the favor."

"Selina, you'll have my eternal gratitude for this."

"Hold on, this isn't free. Since your name is too long, I'm going to start calling you _Boros_ from now on!"

(-****-)

After leaving from Kroog's house, Ouroboros and Selina went directly for the Cathedral District to stop by her friend's house. After walking all the way from the Dwarven District the sun was beginning to set, touching the tops of the mountain range that the city lay nestled in.

When they reached Cat's house, Ouroboros left to stand by the fountain in the middle of the courtyard, while Selina climbed over the fence and into the yard.

She didn't wish to disturb her friend's family with what had happened, nor be forced into explaining to Cat's father why she'd decided to show up. However, Selina felt it was best that she tell her friend the fate of those who attacked her. She'd written a letter for the girl to read in private, one that she would be left upon her windowsill for Cat to find when she next opened it.

So, climbing into a crouch upon the wall, Selina slinked her way over to where a part of the house jutted out close to the top of the wall and jumped onto it. She scaled her way onto the roof, and then proceeded to climb up to her friend's window. The task proved easy enough for the SI:7 agent, and in seconds she had reached her destination. Gripping the windowsill with one hand, she used her other to pull out the letter that had been tucked into her belt, and pinned it to the wood surrounding the glass.

Being certain that nobody saw her and passing by no windows, the girl quickly scurried back down. Once she was safely on the wall, Selina jumped down, and went to search for Ouroboros by the fountain. She found him standing beside the glistening waters that spurted forth from the triple rimmed bowls, which depicted glorious carvings of holy figures doing battle against wicked foes. In the fading light of the evening sun, the waters almost looked to be made of gold as they splashed to-and-fro.

As Selina approached him, Ouroboros must have heard her, for he turned around. "Well, is it done then?"

"It is," she said while nodding." Thank you for waiting. Let's go to the headquarters and see if my Commanders know anything."

"Sure thing, you had to do this. Now let's-" but he was cut off from finishing.

"Hold there Brother, we must ask for your name."

Selina and Ouroboros both turned to face the newcomers. They were two sentinels still wearing the tabard of Teldrassil, which meant that their business was direct from their own city.

"Ouroboros Bladesong, Sisters, for what reason do you require my name?"

However, upon hearing who he was, both sentinels sighed with great relief. "We've been looking around Stormwind for most of the day in search of you Ouroboros… You must come with us."

"I do not mean to question your orders, but what for Sisters?"

"We do not know the details, other than that it concerns the Horde's recent attack in Ashenvale Forest. You must come with us."

"Of course, lead me where you will."

"Well, I guess my services are no longer required then."

Then, as if he'd suddenly remembered something, Ouroboros turned back toward his companion. "Selina! Thank you for your generosity, truly. I hope that we'll be able to meet again someday, Selina Torwell."

"Good bye, Ouroboros Bladesong…" She said, while extending her open hand.

Ouroboros looked at the gesture for a moment before reaching out and shaking hands. He then turned to follow the sentinels, leaving Selina by the fountain to stare at him while he walked away.


	15. Chapter 15

**Rage of the Blade Song – 15**

Ouroboros and the sentinels walked in silence as they followed the canals back along the Cathedral District and then the Dwarven District. Though they did not know the reason why, Ouroboros found himself being led directly to the keep. However, if Ashenvale was caught up in the affair, then he could only guess that his destination was the war room, where he'd likely be requested to venture back to the front immediately.

Of course they might also put him on trial for not returning on his own. Whatever the case, Ouroboros had every intention to willingly find out things for himself.

Walking at a brisk pace they reached the keep in short time. Over a dozen guards patrolled the grounds and stairs, keeping the air alive with the sound of their standard plate armor jostling about.

The three Elves proceeded through the Stormwind castle grounds uninterrupted and entered into the keep by its main entrance – a magnificent and towering set of thick wooden doors that swung inward and were watched over by a group of four knights. They continued down the main hall, which was just as grand as the doorway, following along a blue velvet carpet trimmed in gold; the colors of the King. The War Room sat off to the side just at the end of the hall, in one of the rooms adjacent to the throne, and Ouroboros prepared to stride confidently the rest of the way there.

However, just as they reached what he deemed to be the halfway point the sentinels turned down a hall on the left, and Ouroboros Bladesong turned with them. To his surprise, the swordsman discovered that his escort was taking him to the castle garden and library wing, which greatly perplexed him.

If they were to discuss matters of war, for what reason would they do so in the gardens?

As they departed from the hall and came fully into the garden, which was brightly illuminated by the full moon above, for no roof hung over the gardens, another Night Elf stepped away from the tree which grew tall from the center. She was clothed in a white robe, and stars seemed to sparkle along its hem and throughout the embroidery, which marked her as a priestess of Elune. Yet, as for why one of the sisters would wish to speak with him that remained a mystery.

(-****-)

Coming down to one knee in homage to the priestess, Ouroboros got straight to business. "Sister, I am Ouroboros Bladesong. The sentinels have told me that my presence has been desired?"

When the priestess answered her voice was airy and musical, but there was a heavy weight to it. "That is so, Ouroboros. I come bearing news from our people across the sea. You have been told of the reason I presume?"

Rising to his feet, he said only one word. "Ashenvale…"

Her words seemed to catch in her throat, and the priestess sighed. "It's never easy to tell one of loss, but that is the reason for my coming. While you still fought at the front lines you were fighting for Commander Eldre'Thor before he requested your leave. Is this true?"

A dreadful knot seemed to form in the pit of his stomach, and to Ouroboros it seemed that garden had suddenly grown colder. "It is."

"Multiple accounts from Eldre'Thor name you as a close friend of his; as does this letter we found in his tent, serving as a will and testament. It pains me to tell you this, but the Commander has fallen in battle."

"How?"

"It was a surprise attack. It would appear that the Horde had assigned a new commander to plan the assault on Ashenvale. During the night a series of raids were carried out against several of our outposts, and, while Commander Eldre'Thor moved to throw back the attackers, the Horde sprang an ambush against him."

"Do we know for sure if he's dead?"

"There were several survivors who escaped from the battle. They've all talked about how valiantly the Commander fought, but almost all of them have confirmed watching him fall."

Ouroboros could feel his heart beating from within his chest, and it seemed to him that it caused even his armor to reverberate.

"Who is this new commander?"

"According to reports it is an Orc by the name of Kotakk; a powerful and revered shaman it would seem. They say he was among the first to charge the battlefield, and both lightning and magma struck forth from his claws, and that he seemed to move faster than the wind itself."

Ouroboros knew without having to ask that this was the same Orc who had killed his friend, he had no doubt about it. Already this Kotakk fit sounded to be the typical fighter among their people; one who honored the glory of a grand kill. If it was he who planned the attack, then it was more than likely he would have made sure for Eldre'Thor to be left alone for him.

Then the thunder of his heartbeat started to grow louder, and a terrible rage broiled within him. He knew what he had to do.

"Am I to be sent back to the Front?" He asked, already rolling his shoulder as if getting ready to fight.

The Priestess bit her lip and pulled out a small scroll of parchment from her belt. "Well you have been away for longer than the Commander suggested you take leave for, but, after careful deliberation, a counsel has decided that your leave is to be extended."

Ouroboros started to protest the news, but the woman quickly continued, cutting him off.

"It would seem that you and the late Commander Eldre'Thor shared a deep friendship, and the war council in Teldrassil gives you their condolences for your no doubt terrible grief. However, considering the reason you were initially dismissed, they do not feel that it would be appropriate to allow you back onto the battlefield at this time." She then paused to unfurl the silver scroll of parchment. "It seems that, before he died, Eldre'Thor had been writing in his journal more recently, and there was a will among his papers. As he did not have a family of his own, the Commander had it written down that you were to come into possession of his belongings, including what wealth he accumulated over the years."

Then, in the midst of his anger, Ouroboros suddenly remembered something of importance. "What about his swords, or are they to be buried with him?" Just like his own weapon, Eldre'Thor's swords had been passed down through the family for countless generations. Since his friend had no heirs of his own, Ouroboros knew that the man would have wanted the blades to be at rest with the last of his kin.

The priestess grimaced visibly before answering the question. "Unfortunately, due to the nature of the shaman's attacks, the body had to be burned. As for the swords, which were requested to be given to you personally, it seems that they've gone missing…"

"What?"

"It would appear that after the Commander was slain, the Horde's own commanding officer was spotted leaving the battlefield and carrying them off as trophies." The priestess rolled the scroll back up and slipped it into a pouch at her side. "I'm sorry that this happened to you Brother, I truly am. May the Moon Goddess grant you strength in these troubling times, for I will pray to Elune that she does so."

With that the priestess of Elune bowed ceremoniously and performed their sacred prayer for him, before she departed from the gardens with both sentinels at her side, leaving Ouroboros to stand alone beneath the boughs of the tree.

(-****-)

While Ouroboros stood staring up at the dark leaves above, another figure slipped into the garden. Selina Torwell walked past the row of candles sitting on the parapet separating the grassy from the stone walkway and came to stand behind the Night Elf.

"So what will you do now?" She asked of him, her voice soft in the night.

Ouroboros turned to look at her. "How long were you listening in for?"

Selina shrugged. "I just got here in time to hear that last bit, but I got the rest of the detail from my own leaders… Your friend was like a brother to you, wasn't he?"

"I owe Eldre'Thor my life… Now here I am learning that a monster took his, and stole away the only heirlooms he had to mark his family name." Ouroboros gave the girl an intense look, and it seemed that his eyes were aflame in the candlelight. "I have to avenge him Selina. I have to find the Orc that killed my friend and took his swords, and end his life."

Selina Torwell crossed her arms together. "But your commanders don't wish for you to return to the front. How do you plan on getting such a chance?"

"I'm a hired sword nowadays. I'll join up with mercenaries if that's what it takes to get out there, and fight on my own if I have to. I will kill that inferno shaman!"

Now the girl gave the Elf a cunning smile. "A mission of killing, eh? Well look no further Ouroboros Bladesong, for you travel now with the greatest assassin in the Eastern Kingdoms!"

"You're going to help me?"

"This new commander leading the Orcish forces could pose as a potentially serious threat, and my superiors want him removed. I figure I could use the company?"

The Elven warrior bit down, but then eased some of his tension. "But why me?"

"Why not you? You're smart and a talented fighter with that sword, and you helped me avenge the honor of my own friend. After all that you've done to aid me giving you the same opportunity only seems fair, and I trust you enough to get this job done."

"How can you put so much faith in a man who only helped to put down a few bandits?"

Selina unfolded her arms and turned away back toward the hall. "Because those who fight for their friends know that there's too much at stake for them to falter." She then looked over her shoulder and gave the Elf a sincere smile. "Now come on, let's go see Kroog for some supplies before we go."

(-****-)

Within the hour they had reached the Dwarf's modest home, where they cleared away space on the eating table and laid out several maps depicting the territories of Ashenvale Forest, the region now known as _Northern_ Barrens, and Durotar, the land that the Orcs now made their home. Then the three friends gathered at the table to discuss how they would begin their hunt for Kotakk; though, being a mere blacksmith, Kroog merely sat in to offer his own commentary every now and then.

"According to what SI:7 has on the Horde's new commander, he's actually been in charge for a little over two months now," Selina said once they were all seated, "but he's remained fairly quiet so far; all our forces there have been getting are the occasional light skirmishes. This was his first major offensive, and it's likely he was using far sight to keep track of Eldre'Thor's position."

Putting a mug of ale down, Kroog provided his own insight. "With all them previous attacks it sounds like 'e was gettin' a feel for what sort of defenses your folk had."

"Exactly," Selina picked up from there. "He's tactical, more-so than their last leader was and, judging by reports, very aggressive. I think SI:7 is right on this one. If Kotakk isn't eliminated soon he'll begin to tear Kalimdor apart, and push our allies completely off of the mainland."

Ouroboros shook his head. "That can't be allowed to happen. If we lose such a major foothold in Kalimdor such as our Northern territories then that gives the Horde an advantage over the Draenei's isles, as well my people's home."

"It won't happen, not if we move quickly enough. As well orchestrated as this attack was, the Horde commander probably knows already that he hit us hard, but he'll likely wait to see how the Alliance reacts to these events."

The Night Elf looked up and glanced at Selina. "And how is the Alliance responding?"

"They're trying to downplay the severity of things, but they realize what could happen if Kotakk attacks again and proves that he has more than luck on his side. New soldiers are being gathered to set sail and reinforce the Elven outposts out there."

"They're only being sent to shore things up? We need to attack the Horde back! What do they think they're doing?"

"Aye lass, I'm with the lad here. It sounds to me like they're gonna be doing a lot o' sittin' around over there.

Selina pursed her lips and nodded. "A new commander has taken charge, a paladin from the Draenei it seems. However, it is his opinion that our forces do their best to maintain hold of what ground we still have, rather than overextend our reach. At least not until the Alliance can send in more reinforcements."

"But aren't more reinforcements being sent in already?"

"Only enough to cover for the losses suffered from the attack. With the war in Pandaria taking away from our resources everyone is starting to get spread thin, and that's probably why the Horde chose now to attack so aggressively."

"Bollocks!" Kroog roared in outrage. "Give me a team o' fifty Dwarves and we'll cut our way through the Horde lines. Mark my words, Dwarves are men of action; there's no way we'd sit back an' let the enemy spit in our faces."

Ouroboros grumbled and put his head in his hands, then, while looking at the table, he spoke. "So the military intends to do nothing?"

"It seems so I'm afraid." However, before the Elf could further lament, Selina continued. "However, with SI:7 taking interest in this it won't be long before they convince the higher-ups on the war council to send over an adept commander, as well as more reinforcements, if only for the time being while Kotakk still lives."

"But just in case they're too late, it's up to us to kill Kotakk before he cripples our hold in the North. I don't suppose SI:7 has a way to get us over there?"

"Unfortunately not, as our target is too deep in enemy territory for fliers to drop us off safely. However, I do still have several Goblin contacts in both Booty Bay and Ratchet who could probably help us get in close, for a price of course. I'm sure one of them would be willing to risk helping us."

Ouroboros looked up and put both of his hands back on the table, clenching his fists as he did so. "That's fine. I'll pay any sum they name if they can get me to Kotakk. So long as I can take his bloody head it'll be worth it."

Kroog pulled at his mustache and grumbled deeply. "Booty Bay, that's a far ways south. Do ya have supplies to make a ride there?"

Selina turned to look at Dwarf and shook her head. "Not at the moment, but we'll manage sure enough before departing."

"Nonsense, I don't want to hear anything about '_we'll manage!_" And he spat the last two words as if they were a curse. "If you're buckling down for a long journey then you'll start off in good ol' Dwarven fashion. You can take from my own supplies girl, and don't feel obligated to pay it back, at least not any time soon. I expect you'll be busy for a good long while. That said, let me go and pack you both the essentials, as I'm sure you'll want to be off first thing in the mornin'."

Kroog then rose from the table and left upstairs. Though the food stores were down in the kitchen, in order to make them travel ready they'd have to be wrapped in something. With the Dwarf gone, Selina and Ouroboros sat alone and looked at each other.

"So your contacts can really help us out then?"

"I'd believe in a Goblin's ability to deal with the Horde better than a human or an Elf's." And Selina gave him a confident smile. "Well since Kroog offered to get gather our things for us, I figure I'll go get some rest."

"Rest easy Selina; as for me, I think I'll stay up a bit longer."

"Are you sure? It might be better to get as much sleep as you can before we go."

"No," and the Elf shook his head. "Trust me; I've been wandering for many years now. I'll be fine with what rest I get, now go get your own sleep." Then, as they both stood up, Ouroboros said one last thing to the human girl. "Thank you Selina, this is…"

But he couldn't find words that seemed to fit how gracious he was. She'd given him the perfect opportunity to avenge the only person he could ever call friend, and Ouroboros felt too humbled to even express himself.

Selina smiled once again before looking away from the tall Elf. "Say nothing of it… Good night Ouroboros." Selina Torwell then walked past him and disappeared around the corner to go upstairs.

As for the sword master, he left the house to go stand outside. Leaning against the wall, Ouroboros stared up at the starlit sky as tears fell silently from his amber eyes.


	16. Chapter 16

**Rage of the Blade Song – 16**

"For a mission like this we will require the utmost haste," Selena started the following morning while they departed from Kroog's house, going over their plan one last time for good measure while they walked to the aviary. The sun had not risen yet, but it wouldn't be long before the first of the rays started to peak out from behind the mountain tops encircling the city.

"While catching a ship to your homeland from the harbor would be the most practical way over, we would have to factor in how long it will take that boat to cross the seas. By time we've arrived to Kalimdor Kotakk could have possibly started his offensive already, or, worse, Ashenvale could be taken by the enemy. Though it's only important that Kotakk be eliminated, it would be prudent to remove him before further harm can be done to the war effort. Yet, funnily enough it's because of this very war that we cannot merely have a mage teleport us across the seas. If we were to do that then we'd end up north of all the fighting, and end up being forced to fight our way to the Orc general. Frankly though an upfront approach has never really been my style; it pays off to be in with the SI:7, it's so much easier to find contacts this way."

"Though the Bilgewater Cartel gave their lot in with the Horde," she continued," Goblins are notorious for holding onto profitable business partners. Naturally with the war between both factions raging like it is, those neutral ties have been in greater demand more than ever, and not just by the Horde. I've a few goblin pals who I can trust to get us from Booty Bay to at least Ratchet; a couple of mage brothers who split their work overseas between each other. The port city is only half a day's ride from Stormwind, and by the next morning we can already be on Kalimdor without enduring the costly labor of sailing the ocean."

With such a sound plan already in place there was nothing else Ouroboros felt he could add to it. He was surprised with how much thought the young woman had put into the plan, especially on such short notice. Yes, she certainly belongs among the SI:7, the elf thought, for someone so young, her skills are remarkable! She is a truly talented agent.

Ouroboros found the whole thing amusing. Here he was, a master of the blade, thousands of years more practiced, and yet the night elf found himself admiring a human. Though he'd only been in her presence for the last few days, Ouroboros had determined that she represented the very qualities that made her people so unique. Selina was brash and headstrong, passionately so, and it gave her a determination that was nigh unstoppable. It was these differences between the longer lived races from the shorter lived ones that he pondered as they flew south.

Once again they rode by gryphon, the half-lion and half-eagle creatures being among the swiftest fliers in Azeroth, with Selina taking their lead. By time they were in the air it was now fully morning, and the birds of Elwynn Forest sang up to them as they flew high overhead. Sunlight lit the earth below, and a sea of green forest stretched out all around them, interrupted only by small islands of fields or lakes where no trees grew. Yet, their journey took them to the southern edges of the forest, where they followed along the river that kept Elwynn separated from Duskwood.

Flying in between both stretches of land, Ouroboros became aware that, with their close proximity to the dismal woodland, no longer could he hear the songs of birds and it that it had now been replaced by the lonely wails of a drafty wind. He looked to the shadowy forest from whence the breeze blew. Duskwood, a forest where all things grew dark, and the very air seemed befouled with a peculiar musk that was foul to breathe. Several of the dark and rotted trees contained great stretches of webbing from the giant spiders that lurked within the canopies, and his sharp eyes would occasionally catch sight of a lone wolf prowling along the riverbank. Yet such creatures were of little threat to some of the horrors which stalked the foreboding woodlands.

It was a tainted land, stained by more than one dark power, and even from his position above the trees the elf felt a great sense of unease pass over him. Unlike the fel powers that ravaged his homeland after the Legion's second invasion, twisting and corrupting all that they touched, this was an entirely different sickening act altogether, for the land itself was now sick and dying. As an Elf, his people harbored a great respect for the land which sustained them, and to see one so thoroughly wounded filled him with a terrible sadness, and a desire for retribution.

Yet this wasn't even his own home, and Ouroboros looked at the girl ahead of him, wondering how it is she felt about such things. Occasionally she would glance down, and the elf would catch what appeared to be a grim look on her face. Of course seeing such a scar pained her; after all, it was a constant reminder to the human nation as to how close some problems hit home.

Fortunately, however, they did not have to endure the sight for much longer. After a few hours of flying over the dark treetops the mountain pass between Duskwood and the northern falls of Stranglethorn Vale came within view. With the halfway point of their journey in sight, Ouroboros and Selina spurred the gryphons to fly faster and, with promises of rest for their weary mounts, quickly reached a small plateau that overlooked the forest of Stranglethorn, putting Duskwood behind them and out of their thoughts.

(-****-)

They settled down to give the gryphons their rest, while also using the time to indulge in some of the provisions Kroog had provided them. Though the vast jungle stretching before them appeared idyllic and peaceful, both knew that such was not the case, and that looks could be deceiving. Within the sprawling jungle were all manner of threats: from being stalked by the panthers, tigers, basilisks, and more in the dense undergrowth, to dodging mammoth crockolisks and hungry Murlocs along the streams, and even great apes were known to come down from the lush canopies from time-to-time to harass travelers. Yet savage animals were not the worst thing to fear from the jungle overgrowth. Rebel fighters fought against the Alliance in the north using brutal guerrilla tactics; the Steamwheedle Cartel was busy with operations to start cutting in the forest and get mine the jungle dry of its precious minerals; even remnants of the ancient troll empires staked their claim in Stranglethorn Vale, fighting tooth-and-nail with any who encroached on their lands. Lastly the Horde was out there as well, with an outpost situated almost right in the middle of the land. With so many foes set around them, Ouroboros knew that he and Selina would have to be especially careful if they hoped to reach Booty Bay without being attacked.

They sat together in silence for about fifteen minutes, each one enjoying the company of the other, before their break ended and it was time to resume their flight to the goblin trading city. Despite the brevity of their rest, the gryphons took off with a great leapt into the air with a great deal of energy.

They flew swiftly, covering a lot of ground in only the first hour. They stuck to flying over the main road that snaked all the way through the jungle from one end to the other. While it left them a bit easier to spot from the ground, they both figured that it would be a safer course than flying over the trees oblivious to what might be below them. Finally they started to approach the jungle midpoint: to their far left, sitting along the edge of the sea, stood the Horde's base of operations, Grom'Gol, but it was far out of their way and they would be past it long before anyone from the camp spotted them.

The riders made such good time that Selina reined her gryphon in until she flew beside the elf. "We may get there just as the sun is beginning its descent if we continue at this pace!" She called loudly, trying to raise her voice above the whistling of the wind.

That was good news for Ouroboros to hear. It had been a long time the elven warrior last visited the goblin city. While pirates harassing the folk of Booty Bay were a constant threat, the town was overall quite safe, and was armed with enough men to make even the most stalwart soldier of either the Horde or the Alliance think twice about starting any disputes. Since the port of Booty Bay was little more than a collection of huts and homes constructed along the side of a hill overhanging the ocean waters its location was quite scenic, and the town had a wonderful view of the ocean which made its waters appear as if they were made of dancing fire when the sun begin to set behind the mountains.

Ouroboros looked forward to sharing such a sight with the human girl now travelling with him, and he looked to his side to give her a determined grin to let her know he'd heard what she said. At first she gave him an inquisitive look, but then she returned his grin with a beaming smile. The elf started to grin wider, but then realized what sort of fool he must look like and turned to look away.

He felt strange, yet not entirely unpleasant, but the sensation seemed entirely too odd for him, and he credited it with his lack of being on the move alone for the last several months. To take his mind off matters he took to searching for the horizon. The Cape of Stranglethorn was relatively small, and so the ocean was visible past the mountains far ahead of where he and Selina rode. There were no clouds that day, and so the sky remained untarnished as it melded perfectly with the ocean. It was impossible to tell one where began and the other ended. The heavens and the seas became a perfect mirror of each other.

Then his gryphon started to buck wildly in the air. The swordsman quickly reacted to the beast's wild thrashing and reached for the reins while tightening the grip of his legs so that he wouldn't be thrown off and left dangling, not that the gryphon would be able to carry his armored form in such a manner. He looked to his right and saw that Selina had already distanced herself from him, and guided her gryphon to make a sharp dive past him. Ouroboros tried to bank toward his left, but by now the gryphon was fluttering its wings wildly and dipping toward the right; only then did the night elf see that a barbed arrow stuck out from its right wing, and that a rope was tethered to its end. Because of how taught the cord was, Ouroboros had no doubt that there was someone pulling his gryphon down from the other end.

Most likely it was a Horde scouting party who, upon seeing the pair, set out to capture them at once, for they no doubt imagined the two of them to be scouts bearing some important message. Yet it was also a possibility that one of the troll tribes in the area spotted them trespassing over their territory, and, if that was the case, they would surely be executed once grounded. From his present position there was little the swordsman could do, and he frowned with worry at the prospect of going down and being surrounded by fighters from either enemy; of course, that was only if he survived the crash as well.

But then Selina did something that he hadn't been expecting. Returning from her brief retreat, the human girl now flew from below Ouroboros, aiming straight at the rope tethered arrow. She was wielding a dagger in her right hand, which she deftly used to cut through the cord as she came close to it. With its wing no longer being tugged down, the elf's gryphon let out a loud screech and beat its wings hard. Unfortunately, with the first snare ruined their attackers resumed shooting more arrows at them, many of which just barely missed their mark.

Once again Selina maneuvered her gryphon for a sharp dive, swiftly descending toward the road, no doubt hoping to break line of sight with their enemy using the trees. Not wishing to require rescuing for a second time, Ouroboros guided his gryphon down as well and followed the human girl into the jungle. They raced along the road, flying just high enough to skit the top of the dense treetops. After a short while they heard the baying of wolves from the jungle growth behind them, which confirmed that it was indeed the Horde who had tried to take them down, and now they were on the hunt for their escaping prey. Yet now they had huge lead over the scouts, as well as the advantage of moving without the terrain to impair them, and soon the wolves snarls were far behind them.

They managed to fly far on adrenaline for some time, certainly far enough to outdistance their pursuers, before Ouroboros' gryphon started to tire. The arrow was still stuck in the hardy creature's wing, and with part of the rope still left dangling the elf marveled that the gryphon managed to keep up with Selina's so well.

As his weary mount finally started to descend, Ouroboros waved for Selina to follow him to the ground.

(-****-)

"In our rush to escape I had entirely forgotten that you'd been injured my friend. Please forgive me for pushing you so hard." Ouroboros told the gryphon while resting his head against its beak. "Take your rest now. You've more than earned it."

Ouroboros then released the sides of the gryphon's head and walked over to its right side. The animal had its wing flexed out, and Selina tenderly worked to fix the wound. She'd had to clip the arrow in order to pull it out without damaging the gryphon's wing, but that had left a small hole in the animal's limb. Her hands moved quickly but with precision as she applied bandages and gauze to the bleeding wound. She managed to stop the bleeding, and afterward wrapped a small patch of gauze over the hole to avoid infection. When she was finished and stepped away the gryphon bowed its head to her, and then went back to preening the feathers of its other wing.

"Could you spare me your water?"

"What for," the night elf started to ask, but stopped when he looked at her hands. After tending to the gryphon's wound her fingers were covered in blood, though the worst of it had been absorbed by the bandages. "Oh yes, of course. Hold on a second," he told her while unfastening the water-skin on his belt.

"That was a messy situation back there," the elf said while slowly pouring water onto Selina's hands. "If they had succeeded in pulling me down things could have turned bad awfully fast. I'm glad you were there to cut that rope."

"I'm glad I was there to intervene as well. With Garrosh leading this Horde they're more vicious than ever before. I hate to imagine what they might have done if you'd been captured." She finished scrubbing her hands. "What happened back there?"

Ouroboros looked at her and sighed. What was he to say? It would be senseless for him to say that he'd been distracted while trying not to think about her. To tell Selina that her smile had unfocused him was sheer foolishness. Perhaps a novice would allow such distractions to weigh on their mind, but he had lived for ten thousand years, and should have been beyond casting his attention to the wind in such a manner. Yet it was happening, and he didn't know why; it wasn't as if Selina was the first woman to fight alongside him. True, he admired her skill with smaller blades, and her quickness of reflex; she also possessed a sharp intuition, and could keep her mind about herself in a bad situation; but these are things that he'd seen in other fighters.

As far as he was concerned, she should have just been like any other companion that he had in the past. So why did things feel different with her?

Ouroboros shook his head. "I'm not sure; they snuck up close enough to us for them to open fire. I must admit that I should have been paying more attention, but I was thinking about what we will do once we reach Ratchet. I should have kept my mind in the present."

"Well fortunately everything turned out well and we managed to get away only a little worse for wear. Still, we'll certainly have to keep a sharper lookout next time we fly, and not allow ourselves to become so distracted." Selina then exhaled deeply, but with great relief. "We'll rest here for now, so that your gryphon may grow accustomed to the wound dressing. It doesn't sound as though the Horde continued the chase, and we're just out of the way enough to where we shouldn't be bothered by anybody.'

She crossed her arms as she continued to speak. "I was hoping we would reach it there by midday, but it looks like that won't be the case with this unexpected stop. Still, with our earlier gain we'll likely arrive at Booty Bay just as night sets."

When Selina finished she walked away, leaving to go sit beside her gryphon and look out into the jungle. Meanwhile, Ouroboros turned away and stared off toward the sea; while she watched the forest perimeter for wildlife, he would keep watch to make sure none of the Naga snaked their way up from the beach. Yet even as his eyes scanned the foliage and in between the trees it was Selina turning away that he continued to see.

When it came time for them to depart they did so wordlessly. Ouroboros had his gryphon flap its wings several times to make sure it was felt better, and then he hopped on the animal's back. In unison, Selina and Ouroboros burst through the canopy and were off for the south; toward Booty Bay and the first of the goblin brothers who would help them across the sea. The sun had barely started to descent from its peak when they left from their resting place, but, as Selina judged, it was almost fully hidden behind the ocean by time they arrived to the port city.

Yet the spectacle was no less enhanced. For as they descended into the port city, now fiery orange in the light of the dying sun, they were greeted by a great many torches blazing brightly around port, like diamonds sparkling in the light. More impressive though was the frantic bustle of a city that came more to life in the night than it did during the day.


	17. Chapter 17

**Rage of the Blade Song – 17**

When their gryphons finally touched down in Booty Bay the sky was lit up a bright orange with the receding sun, and the clouds that hung off-coast seemed purple. As the gryphons settled onto the landing perch the goblin in attendance immediately ran forward from near the door down below to take the reins. However, before either could get free from their mount, he raised a hand palm up and gave them each a toothy smile. Selina started for her coin purse, but Ouroboros beat her to the mark and handed several silver coins to the little green man while earning him a sharp stare from his companion.

The goblin stood still for a moment as he counted out the coins before finally snatching his hand closed and pocketing the fare and nodding his bulbous head, which caused his large ears to flap. "Looks like all things are in proper order. Now, if you'd be so kind as to step off, I'll take your beasts away and let them rest with the others below. Will you be departing from Booty Bay any time soon?"

"Yes," Selina said in response, "but it won't be by gryphon. Once they've recuperated from their travels please let them loose back to Stormwind."

"Well enjoy your stay while it lasts, and don't go making any trouble while you're here. Your war with the Horde stays outside this city's walls, and, if it doesn't, our lads will rightly get involved right away."

The elf and human did as they were bid, lithely swinging in the saddle and slipping off the side of the gryphons to their own feet. The goblin gave them one last bow before walking away to lead the gryphons into the coop inside by their reins. However, rather than follow the diminutive caretaker, Ouroboros and Selina walked to the edge of the perch and looked out at the various platforms that made up Booty bay.

Leave it to the goblins to construct a city kept alive entirely by the vices of its people, the elf thought. Even as he stood there he could see an assortment of drunken sailors swaying to-and-fro as they worked their way around the city, and Ouroboros marveled that none had fallen in the ocean yet since there was no wall along the platforms to prevent the unwary from taking a dive into the waters below. Booty Bay was alive with the buzz of conversation, though none of it was intelligible from where they stood. There were many groups gathered around the port city; some were clearly denizens who lived among the docks, while others were more obviously travelers merely passing through. Occasionally it would seem that a squabble was about to break out somewhere in the city, usually between the sailors from both sides of the war while others egged the combatants on, but, just as the goblin warned them of, the city bruisers quickly waded in and defused the situations.

Overall though, despite the constant noise of drunken rambling and gamblers protesting their losses, there was a certain exuberant air that pervaded Booty Bay, and Ouroboros felt quite as though he were in his own element. Curious to what Selina thought of the city, the elf turned to look at her, and discovered that she was already staring at him. Her brows were knitted together at a sharp angle, which gave her a piercing glance.

"Is something on your mind?"

"Why did you pay our fare?" She asked crossly.

Ouroboros was taken aback. "I'd already prepared my coin purse while we were descending, so I figured it would be easier if I went ahead and covered us both." He looked at her with some amusement. "Is that a problem?"

"I'm not fond of people paying things for me. I've was never given anything growing up unless I earned it, and I don't wish to start now that I'm a grown woman."

The night elf laughed at her response. "Well then, consider it a favor for helping me get across the seas more quickly so that I may avenge my friend. You were right earlier about the various travel routes to Kalimdor, and without your assistance in this matter it would have taken me some time to even set foot on the continent by then. I want to kill this Kotakk while he still remembers for what reason he's being put down." Though he was calm while speaking, Ouroboros seemed to lose some of his spirit until he spoke as though he were an automaton. "Covering our fare during this travel is the least I can do to repay you. Besides, I've just come into a recent inheritance…"

Selina looked to be considering the facts and then sighed crestfallenly as she.

However, as she opened her mouth to speak they were interrupted by someone coming out onto the perch. It was an orc, and, judging by the spiked, red leather armor he wore, he was a scout for the Horde army. His bald head was scratched all over with scars, the tip of his left ear was missing, as well as a part of his upper lip, which allowed his fangs to show themselves more prominently and made it seem as though he were sneering maliciously.

There was a dull look in his eye as he rode out on the back of a wyvern, one that quickly disappeared as he laid eyes on the two Alliance figures before him. First he looked upon Selina, his baleful eyes taking stock of her figure and lingering on the daggers at her sides. Then he looked at Ouroboros and a hideous, cruel smile broke out over his features. Looking at the night elf, he said something in Orcish before letting out barking laughter. Figuring it to have been in relation to the Horde's attack in Ashenvale, Ouroboros reached for his weapon as he started for the orc, but the scout kicked his heels into the wyvern's side, causing it to run for the ledge and spring into the air.

"Bastard! I know he said something about the attack!"

"Ouroboros…" Selina reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get down from here."

The night elf clenched his fist while he stared at orc's swiftly shrinking form, but relaxed it as he let out a deep breath. He nodded his head at his companion's suggestion, and together they left the landing perch. There was only one way down to the city from where they were, and that was through the aviary tower, fortunately, however, since the night was beginning to fall there were few others inside to tie them up.

Once outside the building they looked around. Ahead of them lay the rest of Booty Bay, an assortment of lodgings so difficult to tell apart that Ouroboros found that he was unable to point out the homes from the shops. Meanwhile the path to their left lead straight toward the tavern, which appeared to be little more than a great ship sticking out from the side of the mountain and overlooked the ocean.

"Well, as things stand, we still won't be set to leave until morning. Since that's the case, why don't you go check on getting us a couple of rooms to stay in for the night and I'll meet you in the bar." Finished speaking, Selina started to walk away.

"Wait!" Ouroboros called out after her. "Where are you off to?"

"I'm going to let my friend know that we've arrived!"

(-****-)

As Selina walked away, and got lost among the wandering crowds, her heart pounded in her chest.

All around her was an assortment of people talking amongst themselves, while the tradesmen packed up their stalls to call it a night. Though there were still some, primarily goblins, who continued to persist into the evening and called out for those passing to check their wares. Yet she ignored them all as her thoughts remained focused on other matters.

For the life of her, Selina couldn't fathom why the night elf seemed such a strong figure in her mind. Her attention on the matter had even nearly gotten them both killed by Horde, and she berated herself for the thousandth time allowing the enemy to sneak up on them as they did.

It wasn't as if he had acted in any romantic manner toward her that would have given her cause to sway. In fact, the girl mused to herself, she was pretty sure that Ouroboros had promised to kill her after she threatened to get the guards on him after their first meeting. True he was handsome – as were most of the elves she noticed – and him in a rugged sort of way, but she'd met many such figures, none of which ever gave her pause. Yet, even after reminding herself of such, Selina found it difficult to take her thoughts off the wandering night elf.

She couldn't explain it, not even to herself. Growing up with a veteran of the SI:7, she'd grown up around men who were just as capable as Ouroboros was quickly proving himself to be, so it wasn't as if she were unused to fighting alongside a man. But, she quickly realized, perhaps that was why the swordsman was so interesting. Many of those she once held as companions, some who even confessed feelings for her, had all been agents of the same organization; bound together by the same duty as one another there was a natural air of comradeship that was almost expected. With Ouroboros though it was different, for it had been entirely up to him whether he chose to help her.

She wouldn't have truly bothered getting the guards on the elf since she knew he did nothing wrong, but she'd been worried he would leave and made the bluff anyway. Perhaps, Selina wondered, she merely felt guilty for having threatened him in such a manner and forcing his help, especially after he turned out to be such a stalwart partner. After seeing for herself the elf's strong character she wished to make things even with Ouroboros, and, after learning of his friend's murder, Selina knew she had the perfect opportunity to help him in return.

That was it, guilt for having tricked him, and now she wished to make amends.

Selina told this to herself several times as she walked, and for a while it seemed to work, but Ouroboros remained ever on her mind.

(-****-)

Deeply lost in her thoughts, it took Selina nearly a half hour to reach her destination.

It was a quaint little hut set on the third tier of platforms, with a single window that faced out toward the sea beside the door, which was closed shut. Just barely within her sight the human spotted a small chimney from which black smoke now escaped. It was the home of Creedle Copperspin, brother to Greedle Copperspin, two of Selina's oldest acquaintances among the goblins. If she had a problem, and magic was involved, they were the first one's she could count on to help get it solved; fine work at a modest cause, and, not wishing to lose a source of revenue, it wasn't likely they would double cross her.

She walked over to the door and gave it three sharp taps.

Selina prepared herself to wait patiently. Like most mages, Creedle and his brother felt that their time was incredibly invaluable, and would often keep guests waiting at the door for minutes at a time. Fortunately, that wasn't the case tonight, and it was only a few seconds before she could hear the goblin scratching at his door from the other side. A moment later it flung open and Selina found herself face-to-face with Creedle Copperspin.

As they looked upon each other, the human thought she saw a hint of surprise in his beady blue eyes. Like the goblin from earlier, Creedle's ears were large, but they pointed back sharply and his left had three golden rings dangling from it which matched the ring set in his long, hooked nose. The top of his head was bald, but he had himself bristling muttonchops, and a ringlet of gray hair circled along the sides while a ponytail sprang up in the back from which there dangled a metal nut. Still this surprised her, for the last time she'd laid eyes on the goblin his hair was dark green.

He was barely in his forties, which, for a goblin, was still remarkably young.

"Selina," Creedle exclaimed in shock.

"Creedle, it looks like you've aged years! What happened?"

"Bah, that Greedle has been trying more patience more than usual of late!" He snapped in an irate tone, his voice high and a bit nasally. "He refuses to send over my half of the profits that we agreed upon be split between our business; says that all the fighting south of him is drawing heavy on his supplies and that he needs the extra coin."

"But weren't you doing the same thing to him back when the pirates kept picking fights with Booty Bay several years ago?"

"That was in the past. He should learn to let go of misgivings." Selina started to chuckle at the goblin's train of reasoning, but then it seemed to register with Creedle that she was likely here another reason aside from a social visit. "My girl, this is certainly a far ways for you to be. Are you on another assignment?"

She nodded her head. "I am indeed, and I'm being accompanied by another. It's urgent that we reach Kalimdor as quickly as possible, and with little notice as well. I was hoping you and your brother would help me and my companion come the morning."

"Is your companion a convict of sorts?"

"No, nothing of the sort, Creedle."

"Then wouldn't it have been easier to get in contact with a mage from the city?"

"It's important that we be sent somewhere a bit more south of the capitals."

"Ah…" Creedle said, the light bulb finally going off in his head. "You're going into Ashenvale from behind enemy lines."

Selina smiled slyly in response to the statement.

"Well then, you've chosen your route to Kalimdor wisely, Miss Torwell. Let me inform my brother of your needs."

Creedle walked over to his desk in the corner opposite of the door, and delicately plucked up a large golden coin that'd been sitting atop it. The goblin hunched over while he held the coin, and Selina could tell that he was focusing intensely. He finally let out a greatly exasperated sigh, stood still for another moment, and finally put the coin back, though with a bit more force than was probably warranted.

"Everything go well?"

"What? Oh, yes, he was simply complaining about the risk of teleporting two of you over this time, because it seems that Garrosh is cracking down on this lately, but there's no way he'd dare instigate the cartels. That's all he seems to do these days is complain, I swear. I must account for at least three quarters of the business that gets taken care of between the two of us." Creedle held up a hand as if to silence himself and took a deep breath. "Anyway, you probably have better things to do than listen to me ramble. We wouldn't want to keep you from your friend, eh?"

The goblin winked at her, and Selina started to blush. "That's incredibly unprofessional! He's a partner in the field, nothing else."

"Oh my dear, I could tell you've been distracted with something else the entire time we've been talking, so let's not waste much more of your time. Be here in the morning, just as the sun is rising preferably; oh, and uh… There's the matter of payment. Sorry Selina, but you know how it is out here. Business comes first."

"Of course Creedle, I wouldn't have assumed otherwise! Will it be your standard fee for teleportation?"

"Normally it would double for two, but, as I've come to know you, I think I'll cut the charge for you."

"Thank you Creedle, my friend and I are very much in your debt. I'll even give you part of your brother's cut before we're off."

To his credit, the goblin gave a wide grin and cheered. "Hah, it's about time justice was served!"

They bid each other farewell, with Selina promising to come early in the morning at their allotted time. Creedle closed the door and returned to whatever devices he'd been previously occupied with. She started back the way from whence she came, and her thoughts followed suit.

She hadn't realized it while talking with the goblin, but the sun had now fully set. By now, she figured, Ouroboros must have already secured rooms for the evening and would be expecting her within the tavern any time now. Not wishing to keep him waiting much longer, she eagerly looked forward to sharing the news with her companion that they would be ready to leave first thing in the morning.


	18. Chapter 18

**Rage of the Blade Song – 18**

Ouroboros whistled a jaunty tune as he turned away from the crowd Selina disappeared into. Despite how his temper had flared only moments before, the night elf felt his spirits quickly return now that he was immersed in the raucous clamor that pervaded Booty Bay.

Operating on the philosophy that money made the world go around, the port city was home primarily to traveling mercenaries and quick-tongued merchants. Naturally, however, the tradesmen were much more cautious on what prey they chose to go after, and stuck to swindling sailors and visitors with items of questionable exotic authenticity. Yet shopping for goods failed to make the elf's list of priorities. His rightful place was among the mercenaries and sailors; those who cared more for the joy of a bottle after a long and hard day. Ouroboros still scoffed at himself for having allowed the human girl to distract him, but, now that it was over with, he could go to relax at the inn and be at peace for at least a little while.

Walking past a massive shark that had been strung up by its tail fin and left to hang from a giant mast, he laid eyes on the sign which served to welcome him into the Salty Sailor Tavern. The room which served as the ground floor was really more of a glorified wooden cabin and, from there, after a short climb up one would find themselves in the lower hull of what was once a grand ship; the first floor of many that contained housing for weary travelers.

At present the main floor was crowded, and nearly every table that lined the walls was occupied by some group. It felt weird for Ouroboros to see so many members of the Horde and Alliance sitting under one roof, but then he felt some measure of security at the same time. Though he knew there was more than one person in that room who'd enjoy nothing more than putting a dagger in his back, it seemed that none were willing to bring the wrath of the Booty Bay bruiser squads down on them. Then again, such caution was for the best. Despite their diminutive size, Ouroboros knew that the little, green goblins were strong, crafty fighters and, when working in a group, they were monstrously effective.

Some of the groups making use of the tavern kept to themselves, preferring to keep their conversations on the side as private as possible. However, there were many more who were there for their own enjoyment. The clatter of glasses and drunken laughter filled the room, and the mood was very merry. One group to the elf's left was holding an arm wrestling competition, which drew the attention of many of the fighters there, especially as the present champion happened to be a troll woman. Following the barmaids running to-and-fro, Ouroboros noticed that, at the end of the room, beside where the bar sat, was a small, makeshift stage from where a band of goblin entertainers played their wild songs. Though they seemed to lack coordination, there was something harmonious in the discord of notes they played, and it was hard not to feel jovial.

Looking at the bar, Ouroboros noticed that a few of the tall stools remained empty. Aside from a couple of goblins sitting at the far end closest to the corner, and a single burly pandaren situated near the middle, there was nobody else. Figuring that whoever was in charge of the bar might also be able to rent him two rooms for the evening, the elf cut across the tavern floor and made his way over. There were two goblins maintaining the bar, each one dressed in a matching outfit of a fine white silk top and black, buckled pantaloons, but one of them was deeply engaged in conversation with the other two goblins sitting at the bar.

Not bothering with one of the seats, Ouroboros merely leaned against the serving counter, only a couple spaces away from the pandaren, as he spoke to the barkeep.

"Good evening, most gracious goblin." He said, getting the other's attention. "I was wondering who I would speak to about securing two rooms for the night."

The goblin gave a quick grunt at the unexpected question and fixed a curious eye on Ouroboros, though he answered all the same. "Well you could ask me for starters. That fellow," the goblin pointed a thumb at his associate, "only helps to deal with the ale. Anyway, the name's Skindle. You said that you wanted two rooms was it?"

"That's correct."

Skindle opened his mouth slightly, enough to reveal his sharp, yellow teeth, while he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We're pretty packed this evening," he started to say. "Let's wait till some of these folks clear out of here before we do anything." Ouroboros then pulled out a small pouch filled with coins and put it on the counter, which caused the goblin to smile greedily. "Then again, let me go and check the Ledger to see if there are any vacancies for this evening. One moment, please."

He bolted quickly past his companion and reached for a thick tome set atop a crate that sat in the corner. Skindle pulled at a cloth tab inlaid with the binding and served as a bookmark and opened to the establishment's most recent dealings. The goblin put one nailed finger on the page he opened up to and trailed it down a long column of scribbles, and then he nodded to himself pleasantly while putting the ledger back in its place and returning to Ouroboros.

"You're in luck it seems! There are exactly two rooms available for the night, each one on the floor right above us and right across from each other. I assume you'll be wishing to have them, yes?" Knowing that his patron was ready with the money already seemed to cause Skindle's eyes to twinkle lustily.

"That I will," said the night elf as he poured out a handful of coins from the pouch onto the counter. "Take whatever is needed to cover the cost of the fare from this."

The goblin gave a greedy squeal as he laid eyes on the coins, and he quickly reached up to snatch more than was enough from the countertop, though he was careful to leave a calculated amount in possession of the elf.

"Might I get you a drink as well while you're here, sir? We have plenty to go around!"

Already picking back up the excess coins from the counter, Ouroboros shook his head. "I think I'll pass, but thank you. I'll content myself with whatever herbs I've brought along." To make his point that he wouldn't be drinking, the night elf also pulled out a pipe and another pouch from which arose a curiously musky aroma.

"All right, suit yourself. Enjoy your stay, and, do remember, if you need anything be sure to ask. I'll see if it can be arranged…" Seeing that it wasn't likely that he'd be getting any more coin from his latest patron, Skindle walked away to join conversation with the other goblins.

Now that he was left to his own devices to await Selina's return, Ouroboros crushed some of the herbs in his pack, sprinkled them into his pipe, and lit up until the girl's return.

(-****-)

Nearly an hour passed by, and Selina still hadn't returned, causing the night elf to wonder over her whereabouts. Knowing how capable the young SI:7 agent was, Ouroboros didn't fear much for her safety while within Booty Bay, but it was starting to get late and he still had no idea where this mage friend of hers was. Still, since he was all the way out there for her contact, the elf did his best to remind himself that there was nothing else to do but continue waiting patiently.

Looking at his pouch of herbs, which was now half-full, Ouroboros sighed wearily. Though he figured that it could still be some time before he next saw Selina, the elf didn't wish to smoke everything he had in one sitting. Dejected, he drew tight the string on the bag to close it and placed it, and the pipe, back in his pack, which was sitting on the counter before him.

He had just considered calling for Skindle so that he may take up the goblin's offer of drink, when the Pandaren beside him spoke.

"You've been puffing on that thing nearly the entire time since you got here, without so little as a single drop of drink." He said in a slow drawl without even a sideways glance at the elf. "If not for the armor I probably would have thought you a softer man. Though, by your choice in vice, I can assume that you are anyway."

Gods, not one of these thick-heads again, Ouroboros thought to himself before looking at the figure speaking to him. Like all pandaren, he was covered in short, white fur while a fiery orange covered his ears and spots around his eyes. From where the elf sat, he also noticed that the pandaren had a minor scar on the left side of his lip, which looked as though something with claws had torn at him. He wore slabs of red metal plate, which were set in layers so that his body would have an easier time moving in combat, though the pauldrons on his shoulders were adorned in thick spikes. Resting beside one of his hands was a helmet that matched with his armor, though there was but a single spike poking out from the top, and on his back was a tall, curved sword clearly meant to be wielded with two hands. Most distinguishing, however, was the strip of blue cloth with the gold imprint of a lion head wrapped around his upper arm, which marked him as a fellow servant to the Alliance.

"You sound almost like a dwarf when you talk that way, Pandaren." Ouroboros said coolly. "Then again, like the dwarves, your culture does thrive on its breweries as well, doesn't it?"

The pandaren nodded his head morosely. "That we do, Night Elf. I find that the stuff served in these taverns pales in comparison to what a real pandaren can brew. However, to that end, my people have set themselves to making the greatest stouts in all the lands, and that is because we know our warriors require drinks as strong as them. That you have not even touched this meager stuff I find to be most…_laughable._"

"You should not judge a warrior by what they take in, but by what they can dish out."

"Nonsense," the pandaren blurted. "All of the best fighters where I hail from drank only the strongest of brewed ales, and I've drunk many a fine champion under the table. To do so was a sure mark of a warrior's constitution, while those who didn't take to drink labored within reading scrolls, and tomes, and practicing their magics."

The night elf sighed, tired of dealing with the drunken bear creature. "I can attest for myself that I owe none of my skill to guzzling down the sauce, but to my own practice."

"Sounds to me like you do too much thinking; a fight should be about pure ferocity."

"Ferocity is good for strength, but for victory one needs a tactical mind."

"Yet if one is strong enough there is no need for tactics when you can overwhelm your enemy with pure force." The pandaren finally turned in his chair to stare at Ouroboros. His eyes were misty and befuddled after one-too many drinks, yet something in them told him that the pandaren was aware of what he was doing. "We could discuss the philosophy of combat through the evening, but then we would only be battling belief against belief. Talk is cheap. If you're such a great warrior then prove it to me. I challenge you to a duel."

Ouroboros looked at him and tried to tell if he was serious. However, though it felt much like a jest, he could see that the pandaren was completely serious.

"Sorry," the elf said, "but I've got to keep my eye out for a friend, and can't let something as trivial as this distract me." Ouroboros grabbed his pouch, slung it over his shoulder, and got to his feet. He would wait for Selina to return by the door.

"You turn your back from combat just like a coward."

At being called a coward the elf stopped in his tracks, his thoughts suddenly going back ten thousand years ago when he swore to himself to never show fear toward a fight. He whirled around and glared harshly at the pandaren warrior.

"Meet me outside and I'll show you what sort of coward I am…"

The pandaren chuckled heartily as he jumped from the stool he was in. "Why fight out there when there's plenty of room in here?" Then, with speed much greater than the elf gave him credit for, the pandaren had pulled out his sword already and slashed at Ouroboros in an overhead swing.

With no time to draw his blade before the sword came down on him the night elf leapt back toward the middle of the room. Yet the pandaren came at him twice more before he had time to arm himself, and he was forced back further. Unlike the tavern in Stormwind, the patrons at the Salty Sailor started to cheer in excitement for the developing fight, with many of them calling out for the pandaren to claim victory. Fortunately, despite his surprise attack, the pandaren proved chivalrous.

"Draw your blade and let's see what you've got."

Biting down and baring his teeth, Ouroboros drew forth the Bladesong and, no sooner than the moment he held the bastard sword aloft, the pandaren was attacking once more.

He came at Ouroboros swiftly, his sword whistling as it cut through the air. Now that he was seeing it in action, the night elf recognized it the sword for a katana, one of those primarily used by the pandaren people, and this was a big one. While it lacked the chopping power and defensive capability that Ouroboros' bastard sword provided him, its uniquely elegant curve made handling of the weapon quite easy. In the hands of a skilled user it would be possible to attack nigh indefinitely, so long as the wielder did not tire, and, true to his word, this pandaren seemed more than proficient with the sword.

He rapidly linked one attack with another nearly as soon as he finished a movement, which forced Ouroboros to constantly remain on guard. He recognized what the other fighter was doing. The pandaren was trying to wear out his foe with an unending array of assaults and then, when the elf did finally did tire, he would no doubt go in for the winning blow. Ouroboros shook his head irritably as, once again, he was forced to quickly maneuver the flat side of his sword so that it would shield him from the pandaren's glancing swing. Unfortunately the pandaren warrior was too quick for Ouroboros to try tackling him, and while inside the tavern he barely had room to maneuver if he didn't wish to disembowel one of the other patrons.

As the night elf pondered how he would get out of his present situation he heard a commotion at the door which drew his attention, and he dared to look away long enough to see what was going on. It was the goblin bruisers here to break up the fight as they pushed through the crowd gathered in the doorway. However, at the behest of those watching from around the room and immediately around them who wanted to continue watching the spectacle, the guards took up stands and joined in as well.

Wonderful, Ouroboros thought, the guards don't even intend to do their jobs. Then, as he was about to look back toward the pandaren, he caught a glimpse of torchlight from outside that gave him an idea. There was a window right next to the door which looked out to the boardwalk.

If only he could somehow maneuver their fight closer to it…

Distracted with formulating a plan of escape, Ouroboros' defense became sloppy, a fact which the pandaren picked up on. Swinging his katana for the night elf's waist, Ouroboros only had a split second to respond. Just barely getting his sword up in time, the night elf was still knocked off balance by the attack. Yet, it also sent him tumbling toward the door and window as well. Seeing his chance to get out from the tavern, Ouroboros went with his momentum. Sitting at the table right beneath the window were two orcs and a troll, and, upon seeing the approaching night elf, they kicked away from where they were sitting and fell back. However, as he drew close by, the night elf leapt into the air, covered his head with an arm while he held the sword straight out past his legs in the other, and shot through the glass window like a missile.

As the glass shattered those who were on the other side of it quickly backed away, and the night elf rose to his feet, readying himself for the combat that would surely be renewed. Then, after only a short pause, the crowd gathered around the tavern door swiftly broke away, the people scattering in all directions as the pandaren warrior came charging out. But now Ouroboros was ready for him.

Before the pandaren had burst out from the Salty Sailor, the night elf made sure that the crowd knew to give him a wide berth after swinging the Bladesong in circles about him. Now, as the pandaren charged at him, it was to discover that his foe was now able to fight without holding back, and Ouroboros swung the bastard sword with all his might. Unlike his weapon, the pandaren's katana lacked the durability to withstand being used as a shield. However, the pandaren continued to surprise him and struck out with his sword so that Ouroboros' would fly high overhead.

Again the pandaren rushed him, but now the night elf was capable of moving around more freely and was able to easily dodge or redirect his opponent's attacks with more fluidity. Now whenever the other warrior came at him, Ouroboros was able to let the attack slide against the Blade Song and control the other's movements. They fought in this manner for but a few long minutes, until they both stood teetering at the edge of the boardwalk just barely overlooking the waters below.

Then, in a fit of rage, the pandaren roared. "You fight just like my brother; always dancing around on your toes!"

The night elf smirked. "Then let me change that for you!"

Twisting back, Ouroboros swung the Bladesong and spun round with a great heave. The pandaren looked up in alarm and, in a moment of panic, tried to raise his own weapon to guard him. As the force of night elf's attack struck him he was lifted from his feet and sent hurtling from the boardwalk and into the waters below. The crowd immediately burst into cheers and applause, and one of the guards even shouted to the night elf that this had been the best fight they'd seen in Booty Bay for years. However, there was one voice that rang out from the crowd which got his attention.

"Ouroboros?"

With heavy breaths the night elf turned and laid eyes on Selina Torwell.

(-****-)

Walking to the lowest pier together, Ouroboros and Selina ventured to a small ramp that led down and dipped into the waters below; other than serving as a platform by which those who fell might return to dry ground, it served little practical use. As the elf walked to the water's edge his companion waited for him up top, while a large, burly figure swam over to the ramp. Ouroboros reached out with his hand, and the pandaren that he had knocked into the gulf gripped it with a water-soaked paw, accepting his offer of assistance.

Though the other warrior was certainly a hefty figure, especially after his dip in the ocean, it wasn't long before Ouroboros had the pandaren back on dry land, and was lividly expressing his amusement for the fight.

"I thank you, Night Elf," the pandaren said as he released Ouroboros' hand and started to shake his head. "Considering the size of your sword, I knew it was folly to continue the fight outside. Even then I knew you would now be able to fight more evenly, and it would have been beyond my blade for it to be wielded as a shield similar to yours. If only it had taken more than the cold waters below to snap me from my drunken stupor. Please, forgive me for my foolishness."

However, Ouroboros only laughed in response. "There is nothing to forgive! I do believe that I needed that fight very much, and you've turned out more honorable than many of my most recent opponents. Now, might I have your name, good warrior?"

At this point the pandaren drew himself up to his full height, standing just above Selina, but coming up to Ouroboros' neck, not counting the short tuft of hair styled in a mohawk.

"I am Tsao-Shu, of the Shu family."

"And I am Ouroboros Bladesong – probably the only surviving member of the name by now. I trust that our battle turned out different from your own bouts with that brother you mentioned."

"Unfortunately not," Tsao-Shu exclaimed before laughing heartily. "My older brother, Tsu-Shu, has been studying as a monk since he was a boy, while I went the path of a warrior. I always sought to overpower him through my strength, but he always just danced around until he was ready to knock me flat. Yet I have always hoped to repay the favor, and now I have you on that list as well."

Ouroboros gave the pandaren a wry smile. "Well, I do wish you the best in your quest." He then turned toward Selina. "I believe it's time that we took our leave before the evening becomes too mature, yes?"

The human girl blinked in surprise; taken aback at being brought into a conversation she was content with sitting out of, for, until now, she had not been too sure of the reason for their previous engagement. "That would, perhaps, be our most prudent course of action. I've already secured us passage to where we need to go, and they goblins have agreed to transport us come the morning."

"Then we should probably get some rest. Something tells me that it would be best if we were fully refreshed while beginning our journeys on Kalimdor."

However, as Ouroboros turned and Selina moved to follow him, Tsao-Shu called out after him.

"Wait, Night Elf!" He exclaimed, and then, as Ouroboros and Selina turned to regard him, Tsao-Shu fell into a kneeling position and held his sword before him in both hands. "You have bested me most honorably, despite my attempt to use the confines of our previous setting to my advantage. If you would allow it, I'd greatly appreciate the opportunity to fight alongside you to pay back for my earlier deception."

"I don't know if that would be a good idea." Selina said with some concern. "Our task is quite private, and certainly no trivial adventure."

Meanwhile, Ouroboros said nothing.

"Then, perhaps, if you are venturing across Horde lands, I can still be of service to you. So long as I remove the Alliance colors there should be none who could know any better that my loyalties don't lie with the Horde, which may come to your advantage. As far as my ability with a blade goes, I'm sure your friend can attest to my skill." Tsao-Shu then paused, and the night elf nodded his head in agreement. "Besides, the brother that I mentioned chose to throw his lot in with the Horde when he journeyed from our homeland, and I feel that he has brought shame to the family name by fighting for a machine of war. If you are traveling to Kalimdor, then there is a possibility that I will find my brother, Tsu, and get him to return home before he damages his name any further."

No one spoke after Tsao-Shu finished with his explanation. Selina was right, of course, that their mission was one of subterfuge, but the pandaren had raised more than a couple good points. In truth, Ouroboros would feel much better knowing there was another worthwhile warrior alongside them while they trespassed in enemy lands, and he was certainly right about being able to blend in over there easier than either he or Selina could ever hope to do. However, he did hold some trepidation that Tsao's personal mission to find his brother might possibly interfere with their own quest, though he did sympathize with the pandaren's aims.

Then, in that instant, Ouroboros recalled the strains that he and Eldre'Thor had placed on each other over the years, and all they did for one another in regards to their brotherhood, and he empathized with the warrior before him.

"Your blade would be a most welcome addition to our group, Tsao-Shu, and I would be honored if you would fight beside us. However, I must implore to you that, even should we find your brother, the completion of our quest remains of the highest priority."

The pandaren's eyes brightened as if some internal flame had been suddenly lit within him and he jumped to his feet, sheathing the katana faster than either Selina or Ouroboros' eyes could follow.

"I swear by the name and honor of my family that I shall take the goal you seek to fulfill and set it of the highest importance in my heart!"

"We're glad to have encountered one of such chivalry, especially here, of all places." Selina said, smiling despite herself.

"That's certainly so! However, this is no place for us to discuss the nature of our quest. Come Tsao, follow Selina and I back to the inn and we shall tell you all that there is to know. Then you can truly decide if you really wish to journey with us still."

(-****-)

After the odd group had returned to the tavern and locked themselves in the privacy of their rooms, the human and elf told Tsao all of what they were doing. The entire conversation took a little over two hours, and had started to wear on into the next morning when they finally finished, yet still the pandaren was of a mind to travel with them. Thrilled that their latest ally had chosen to bear their mission upon himself as well, the three of them slept for the remainder of the night, promising to meet outside come the allotted time.

Before the sun had yet to rise, though it would certainly not be long before it did, the three companions had all awakened and met up. Led by Selina, they walked to the outskirts of the uppermost balconies in Booty Bay, taking them a small hut set between two larger shops. After rapping her gloved knuckles sharply against the door, they were greeted by one of the tiny goblins, who looked about with a sense of extreme caution before he bid them to step inside.

Just as it looked to be from the outside, the interior was small and cluttered, and the group had to stoop if they wished to fit inside. Fortunately, however, the goblin had dug into the hill his house was set up against for a small workspace that was much taller than the rest of his house, and it was here that he led them.

Though initially irritated at the sight of an additional member, Creedle Copperspin, as he introduced himself, didn't protest for long, though he continued to mumble complaints to himself. He had his guests form a circle facing each other while they stood over a rune circle that had been drawn into the dirt. Once they did so, he plucked a large coin from off of his desk and had each of them hold it at once. Creedle then moved to stand in the center of the spell matrix as he held up his hands and focused his stare on the large, copper coin. As his face scrunched up, Creedle's hands started to glow with arcane power that quickly started to filter into the coin until it started to glow with a blinding light. The coin started to shine with such intensity that they sought to close their eyes, though the goblin told them to focus solely on staring at the copper coin.

When the group could finally hold their eyes open no longer, they closed them tightly for fear that they should burn themselves blind. However, as they did so, a curious sensation as though they were spinning overtook them, though their feet never left the ground and their bodies never moved.

Then, when the odd feeling had passed, they opened their eyes ready to question Creedle; only to find that they no longer stood in the back of the goblin mage's den. They now stood in a taller room with wooden walls over a similar rune circle, from which in the center there stood a goblin that looked an awful lot like Creedle, only that he was looking at them with some sense of paranoia.

The sudden sound of a bell chiming from somewhere outside drew their attention to the front of the room where a window overlooked a balcony, showing them that they were on the second floor. However, it was the land itself, consisting of golden grassland and dirt roads, that captivated them.

They were now in Kalimdor, at the goblin port town of Ratchet; they were overseas within enemy territory.


End file.
